


Workin' My Way Back to You

by imusuallyobsessed



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: "platonic" circumstances, Babysitting, Bikinis, Brunch, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Felicity is repressing her feelings, For the most part, Injury, Oliver just wants Felicity back, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Reconciliation, Self-Defense, Self-Defense Lessons, Sexual Tension, Someday, Speculation, Television Watching, Thea meddles, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Warnings May Change, Yoga, and he's gonna do everything in his power to make that happen, arrow season 4.5, but she means well, heat wave, oliver is offended that felicity thinks his serious vigilante paint is makeup, oliver tries to win felicity back, shirtless Oliver, sort of, the detective shows up but don't worry Felicity still loves Oliver, unresolved tension of every kind, which is usually Oliver's game but she's playing now too, working their way back to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7221559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imusuallyobsessed/pseuds/imusuallyobsessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of Team Arrow is gone or off-duty for the summer. Oliver and Felicity are the only ones left to protect Star City. Long days and longer nights in the lair - just the two of them - are sure to lead to something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Platonic About This

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, don't you have a bunch of other WIPs? Why yes, I do! But I have a conversation with alexiablackbriar13 and we decided that drabble series' don't really count so I don't feel that bad.
> 
> This will be all my drabbles about the hiatus! Anything and everything season 4.5 will be right here. Feel free to prompt me! In the meantime, it'll just be me hijacking prompts and thinking up some of my own.

The lair (Felicity still refused to call it the bunker in her own head. It was a lair and Oliver needed to accept it) was still in disarray, but with only the two of them–and occasionally Curtis–it was going to take more than a few days to put everything back in order.

One thing that did get fixed immediately, which shouldn’t have surprised Felicity at all, was the workout area. Oliver was very serious about his fitness. And despite their breakup, Felicity still let herself appreciate it. It would practically be criminal not to at least  _look_. For science. For posterity.

At the moment, Felicity was unable to truly bask in the glory that was a sweaty, shirtless Oliver. Because he was wearing a shirt. Tragically.

And giving her a self-defense lesson, but that was really secondary.

Well, until Oliver swiped her legs out from under her and she landed hard on her butt.  _Again_.

This was why Felicity couldn’t cook. She never could focus on one thing at a time. That was why she liked coding. It was a hundred little things all happening at once and demanding her attention.

“Focus, Felicity. Situational awareness saves lives,” Oliver repeated for what felt like the five millionth time as he held out his hand to help her up.

Felicity dramatically flopped on the mat, sighing and staring up at Oliver with pleading eyes. “Just leave me here to die. And put ice on my butt,” she moaned, pouting at Oliver while she rolled over to take weight off her backside.

Oliver might’ve been smiling, but Felicity must have been seeing things because laughing at a woman with a butt as bruised as her ego was just cruel.

“You’re doing really well, Felicity,” he said, his tone instantly softer and warmer than his “Teacher Voice,” as she’d come to call it. “We let your lessons lapse because of… everything, but that was an oversight on my part.”

“I held my own against the Ghosts just fine,” she grumbled, still stubbornly laying on the ground as she thought back over their time since coming back from Ivy Town. Her minds eye replayed a lot of blunt objects meeting Ghost’s heads. And firing a machine gun at Double Down. Yeah, she was pretty badass.

Oliver pressed his lips together, and Felicity saw that he was still amused but he was remembering their past year with much less fondness than her.

“You did. You’re remarkable. But, that’s no reason not to prepare you even further. Just a few extra seconds can make all the difference,” he said, flexing his outstretched hand to remind Felicity that he wanted her to grab it.

As if she could forget. God, sometimes she had dreams that featured only those hands.

Felicity sighed. He was right. She held her own against metahumans and Ghosts, but she had to credit her quick thinking in a fight to Digg and Oliver’s training–at least in part. She was pretty brilliant on her own, after all.

She’d started training with the two men after Oliver got his head out of his ass and came back from Lian Yu after the Undertaking. Before that, she’d been so insisted she was only on the team for Walter that she hadn’t seen any reason to learn how to protect herself, even after the Dodger. It was naive on her part, but she fixed her mistake. During the summer Oliver was gone to Hell Island, Digg had started training her. She was a member of the vigilante team, and there was no reason to leave her unable to defend herself. When Oliver got back and decided to become the Arrow, he’d joined the ex-soldier. They both excelled in different areas, which made her education well-rounded.

After Russia–after  _Isabel_ –Felicity had gone back to training with just Digg. Oliver was busy anyway, trying to keep his company and deal with Slade and Thea and his mother. They reconciled eventually and Oliver joined the lessons again, but after everything that happened with their exploding date and him pushing her away, she went back to just learning from Digg. It was easier to learn when she didn’t want to scream or cry every time she saw her teacher.

Then, the League happened. Oliver died, came back, left, and Felicity felt shattered. She wasn’t–she was so much stronger than that–but her lessons fell off the wagon. Trying to save Oliver from a future in the Evil League of Evil and her entire city from a deadly bio-weapon, all while navigating an awkward love triangle–hadn’t left much time for general hygiene or sleep, let alone self-defense training.

In Ivy Town, Oliver hadn’t offered and Felicity hadn’t asked, despite her itch to get back in the business of saving the world on a nightly basis. She hadn’t wanted to shatter the peaceful atmosphere Oliver to obviously craved.

Things hadn’t had time to start back up again when they got to the newly named Star City before Darhk, her paralysis, then the breakup happened. This was the first time since before Ivy Town that they were training together.

Felicity had missed it. Oliver was brusque and efficient, but he was kind, thorough, and endlessly patient. With Felicity as a student, he needed every moment of that patience. She had a habit of tangenting. And getting distracted. Like she was right now, going over her entire self-defense history. There was also a running list of lair repairs constantly going in the back of her mind, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

“I know,” she moaned, taking Oliver’s hand and allowing herself to be pulled back up. “Digg said the same thing after the Undertaking,” she lowered her pitch to try and match their partners voice, “ _There’s no reason not to teach you, Felicity. It’s an unnecessary risk_.”

“Digg is usually right,” Oliver said, resuming his stance across from Felicity and watching her body closely.

She forced herself to remember this was lessons. That was why he was watching her so intently. (Even if that wasn’t the only reason, she was going to force herself to think it was. She wasn’t ready for anything else yet.)

“Here, let me just–” Oliver stepped into her space, his hands reaching out for her hips to correct her stance. Apparently, she still needed a bit more direction that she thought.

Oliver gently moved her hips, turning her more to the side. “Present a smaller target,” Felicity said, jumping in just as Oliver’s mouth opened.

He gave her a look, but Felicity just smiled. He couldn’t glare at her if he tried.

Oliver’s expression dissolved into a smile too and  _oh_ … he was standing pretty close. His hands were on her hips, just a few inches of space between their torsos. That small space felt simultaneously like the barest millimeters and longest miles. Heat radiated off of him, radiating from under his gray t-shirt to warm her bright pink athletic top. His hands felt like fire on her hips, tickling awareness up and down her body. It was their only point of contact, but it turned Felicity into a pillar of flame. They were still broken up, but she wasn’t  _dead_.

His eyes, though… His eyes were the core of the earth. They were bright blue magma, molten and the hottest thing on the planet. They scorched everywhere they landed, up from her hips to meet her own eyes, open and staring.

The lair was cold to protect her babies, but Felicity felt like every inch of her skin was kissed by fire. Her lips felt so hot she was surprised they weren’t smoking.

Haha. Smoking.

Unable to stop herself, she took her bottom lip into her mouth, practically combusting when Oliver’s eyes immediately moved down to track the movement. Then, his tongue slowly moved out of his mouth to lick across his bottom lip in that way that’d driven her crazy since she started working with him over four years before.

All of a sudden, he seemed to catch himself. His eyes shuttered and he stepped back, his molten blue eyes clinical once again. “Good,” he nodded, “now hit me.”

“Easier said than done,” she mumbled, but the tiny twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth let her know he heard.

Why was she so disappointed? Her joke had hidden the reaction from Oliver–she hoped–but as she went through the motions of setting up an attack (which didn’t really sound like self-defense to her, but whatever) she thought about the reaction she couldn’t hide from herself.

 _She_ had broken up with  _him_. She’d ended things–twice, with differing levels of finality and meaning–and told him not to give Moira’s ring back to her. She wasn’t as done with him as she originally thought, evidenced by the fact that she was only one left of Team Arrow in the aftermath of Darhk and Genesis, but she and Oliver were romantically over. Why was she so disappointed he hadn’t kissed her?

 _Get a grip, Smoak_ , she berated herself, trying to focus on her lessons and pretending the man in front of her was Digg or Roy or Sara or someone she had purely platonic, teamly thoughts about.

When she landed on her ass again, but two seconds later than she did before, she found herself looking up into Oliver’s warm eyes and smiling face and sighed. Frack. There couldn’t ever be anything platonic about this.


	2. Vigilante in the Makeup Chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ok, but imagine Felicity telling Oliver to use concealer after getting a black eye out on the streets, telling him the Mayor can’t show up to work looking like he’s been in a bar fight."
> 
> This chapter came from [this post](http://aussieforgood.tumblr.com/post/145694942330/yespleasehawkeye-perfectlittlesoul-ok-but) on tumblr. Read the original Tumblr post [here!](https://imusuallyobsessed.tumblr.com/post/146023600725/damn-self-back-at-it-again-with-hijacking)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people on Tumblr talked about Felicity going at Oliver with some concealer after a hard night of Arrowing, and I just couldn't resist. Happy reading!

“Don’t come any closer,” Oliver said, backing up across the half-rebuilt bunker, his wide blue eyes fixed on the object of his fear.

Felicity rolled her eyes, unperturbed by the Starling City Vigilante holding out his extremely muscular arms to ward her off. She’d seen him cuddle a kitten they found in an abandoned warehouse last week before taking it to the humane society.

“ _Puh-lease_ , Oliver. It’s just concealer. You wore eyeshadow when we first started working together,” she said, following him around the lair in her heels as he backed up and miraculously didn’t trip on anything. A small part of Felicity envied him his grace.

“It wasn’t _eyeshadow_ ,” he insisted, obviously offended but not distracted. “It was greasepaint.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure, whatever. Oliver, you’re the mayor of Star City now. You can’t go into work with a massive bruise on your jaw!” she argued, repeating the same thought process she’d had when he came after patrol that night with a nasty bruise from a drug runner who was now safely behind bars. It was a Saturday, but he had an afternoon meeting with his staff and a local nonprofit.

“It’s not like I have any press conferences or anything. My job is mostly paperwork, you know,” he argued – the same argument he’d had since she whipped out her extra-coverage concealer and started toward him.

“People will have questions! The mayor doesn’t just show up to work with a bruised jaw without an explanation!”

“I’ll say I tripped.”

“You’re the most graceful human I know. No one will buy that!”

“I got in a fight.”

“Oh, great headline when someone in your office leaks the story! _Mayor Oliver Queen – Former Billionaire Playboy – Gets in Bar Fight._ You’re only _interim_ mayor, Oliver. If anything like that gets out, you won’t get elected.”

He scowled at her, taking a moment to pause so she could get the full brunt of the expression, but Felicity was undeterred and finally had an opening. She darted over to him and grabbed his arm, staring up at him with her firmest expression.

“Now, you will act like an adult, sit down, and let me do this so you can get re-elected mayor. You’re bankrolling all this again,” she said, gesturing to the lair around them. “You can’t lose your job. I need new processors.”

Oliver rolled his eyes but let Felicity drag him to the med table. She was under no illusions that he was letting her. If he hadn’t wanted to move, there was no way she could’ve gotten him across the room.

With only minor pouting, Oliver sat in a chair with a look like he was going to the gallows.

“It’s makeup, Oliver, not the guillotine. Get over yourself,” she said, using a gentle hand on his jaw to tilt his head just so to catch the light.

After a few moments, Oliver said, “Speaking of bankrolling, have you made any headway with Palmer Tech? You haven’t said much about it in the past few days.”

He’d know. With Digg overseas, Lyla working double-time to take care of baby Sara and direct A.R.G.U.S., Thea off the team and doing some soul-searching, and Roy still technically dead and therefore unable to visit, she and Oliver spent almost every waking moment together. Some unwaking ones, too. Not like _that_. It was just that he was still living in the bunker despite having a salaried job and it made her unbearably sad to think of him all alone down there at night. Besides, having him back at the loft was… amazing.

“Earth to Felicity,” he said, smiling under her hands though his quick blue eyes looked a little concerned.

Felicity considered admonishing him to talking when she was trying to put concealer on his _jaw_ , but decided to just answer his question. “Still working on it. Apparently, they’re still trying to find out who on earth told every news site in the world that they had a prototype to help people with disabilities walk again and not only were going to charge exorbitant prices most couldn’t afford, but also fired their disabled CEO with the only working chip… It’s such a mystery,” she said, not even trying to hide her broad grin.

Felicity refused to feel bad for wanting the bio-stimulant that have her the ability to walk again to be available to the general public. The fact that the Palmer Tech board wanted to sell it for so much made her want to start bashing heads. She understood they needed to make back the money they spent developing the chip, but Felicity refused to let herself get to the point that the bottom line was worth more than people’s lives.

Public opinion of Palmer Tech was at an all-time low. Felicity felt kind of bad for doing that to Ray’s legacy, but he was presumed dead and off time-traveling so he didn’t get to have an opinion.

“I haven’t heard from them yet, but Curtis let me know that several of the board members have already talked about getting me back. We were the only ones actively looking for a solution to make the bio-stimulant more affordable, and without Curtis _and_ me they have no idea where to start,” she said, trying and failing not to sound smug.

If any of those pompous board members had lived through what she had, they’d understand. Unfortunately, it was up to her to _make_ them understand.

Pride shone in Oliver’s eyes as he gazed up at her with love and awe in his eyes. Seeing those things didn’t make her feel as uncomfortable as they used to. Every day that passed, Felicity got closer and closer to thinking she might want to try again with Oliver.

“You’re remarkable,” he said, his stubbled jaw gently scraping her hand.

Felicity blushed but continued with, “Thank you for remarking on it.”

They both remembered. Neither of them needed to say anything. It had been almost four years since they met, and so much had changed.

“If I do go back, though, I’m thinking of doing a major overhaul,” Felicity said, purposefully breaking the moment and re-focusing on her task. Even if she was thinking about trying again, she wasn’t there yet.

He tilted his head just enough to convey curiosity but not so much to disturb her concealing.

Felicity tilted her head, her mind immediately whirling with all her ideas for Palmer Tech. “I’m thinking the company should go private for a little while. I’ve only really started researching how to do that, but with how their stocks have plummeted since the news broke it might be easier than I think. Then, I want to do a major overhaul of the board. Somehow. We need more people that share the same vision. Money is important, but changing the world and improving people’s lives is _more_ important. I want to hire more people like Curtis and give them the resources to accomplish amazing things,” she said, biting her lip to stop the flow of words. She knew Oliver didn’t mind her babbling, but things were still slightly weird between them lately and she hated babbling so much.

Oliver was still gazing at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen and Felicity felt her cheeks burn with a blush. Frack, her whole face was probably red.

“You’re so much better at being CEO than I ever was,” he slid his eyes closed as he relaxed into her hands with a sigh, but it wasn’t resigned or angry. He sounded more content than he had in a while. In a flash, she was reminded of Ivy Town and how much more at ease he seemed there.

Despite everything that happened since they came back to “Star” City, Felicity didn’t regret leaving Ivy Town. Things had been wonderful there, but the idyllic neighborhood wasn’t reality. There was no Digg or Thea or actual jobs. The Palmer Tech board was operating under the assumption that she’d come back eventually. Also, she had been about one scalloped or dappled edge dinnerware conversation away from ripping her hair out. What was the point of fancy dishes, anyway? Even when she’d been engaged to Oliver and on the fast track to married, she hadn’t registered for any china. Her mom and Thea had tried to talk her into it, but she didn’t see the point of fancy plates they’d only use once or twice a year. Lyla agreed with her, which made Felicity feel vindicated.

“I know,” she said, smirking a little and winking when he opened his eyes again to meet hers. “You have a lot of wonderful qualities, but you also have some iffy qualities. Like being on time. Which is pretty important for a CEO.”

Oliver huffed, but she felt him smile – just a little – under her hands. He’d wisely decided not to disturb her work too much.

It was a surprising amount of work to cover the bruise, but it was a delicate balance between cakiness and coverage. That, and her concealer was just a little but too light so she had to balance it with powder and bronzer.

After a few more minutes of peaceful silence, Felicity stepped back and tilted his chin this way and that to observe his jaw. “They’ll put more makeup on you for the cameras anyway, so I think you’ll pass all but the closest scrutiny,” she said, snapping her concealer compact shut.

Oliver stayed seated for another moment, which surprised Felicity since he’d practically run away from her a few minutes before. He was still staring at her with that warm, happy look on his face that made her stomach swoop.

He stood up and took a step forward, putting his hand on her shoulder in a way that reminded her of their early days and was somehow the furthest thing from platonic despite being a touch on the shoulder. Felicity felt the heat of his hand seep into her skin and warm her entire body. He looked down at her and smiled and Felicity felt like a total cliché but it was like the sun coming out.

“Thank you, Felicity,” he said, his tone light but heavy with sincerity. ‘Thank you’ always felt like more when he was saying it.

“You’re welcome,” she managed to say past the humongous lump in her throat that was formed from Oliver’s general hotness – which prolonged, _intimate_ exposure hadn’t dimmed one bit – the weight of his words, and the intimate atmosphere around them.

But, of course, the moment couldn’t last.

Their phones started to chime with texts, Oliver’s probably from his new campaign manager reminding him to be on time and Felicity’s more than likely from Curtis. Digg was deployed so he couldn’t text, Lyla was at work, Thea wasn’t much for hanging out with others at the moment, and Roy was still, sadly, living under a false identity. The only person who texted her with any frequency these days, besides Curtis, was standing right in front of her.

“We’re being summoned,” Felicity said, but she didn’t move away or attempt to dislodge Oliver’s hand from her shoulder.

He nodded, staring into her eyes for a few more moments before gently squeezing her shoulder and taking a step back. “It’s probably Harry. I know I have a history of tardiness, but he doesn’t need to text me every two minutes with a countdown,” he said as they both picked up their phones.

Oliver’s new campaign manager – despite it not technically being a campaign, he was only interim mayor – was British and named Harry. Felicity laughed a little every time she thought about it.

“Curtis wants to talk through some more bio-stimulant specs,” she said, not at all surprised that the scientist was texting her. “He says he had a dream last night about bananas and barrels that might lead to a breakthrough. Says it might’ve been playing Donkey Kong before bed, but it’s worth trying.”

Oliver had never cared about pop culture before the island and especially not after it, but Felicity was happy to know he at least knew what Donkey Kong was. He nodded, both confused and amused.

“Please tell me about the dream later,” he said, packing up his stuff.

They walked out of the lair together. Felicity had a few secure searches running, but the alerts would go to her phone if it was anything serious. As always, Oliver walked her to her car.

“Dinner?” he asked, like he always did, even though they ate dinner together almost every single night.

Felicity bit her lip as she put her things in her Mini, her mind whirring with the possibilities that might come about with Curtis. “I want to, but I don’t know what Curtis is thinking – ”

“You still need to eat,” he interrupted gently but firmly.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes sparkling at the replay of an argument they’d had since they’d become closer after Slade Wilson. Felicity was a workaholic and sometimes went whole days on only one meal – or not eating at all. Once she and Oliver became closer friends and he realized this less-than-healthy habit, be made it a point to cook for her, invite her to eat, or text her little reminders. Once they got together, he was even worse. He also kept trying to make her eat _healthy_. Like there was anything wrong with leftover pizza and Doritos for breakfast.

“I’ll make whatever you want,” he enticed, tilting his head with a little smile.

Damn him. He knew just how to get to her.

“Like that new curry recipe we saw on The Food Network the other day?” she asked, still looking over her shoulder but tilting her head to match his.

He gave her a full smile – with his perfectly shiny teeth – and nodded. “Anything you want. I’ll even make my crème brûlée for dessert. Even though it doesn’t quite go with curry,” he said with a laugh.

Felicity closed her eyes and moaned, hanging her head in defeat. Oliver made lemon and lavender crème brûlée with hand-grated sea salt on top. It was one of the most mouth-gasmic desserts she’d ever had, and she was a self-professed chocoholic.

She turned around, her eyes narrowed in mock-outraged, and gently poked him in the chest. “You don’t play fair,” she insisted, crossing her arms and only trying marginally not to look like a petulant child.

Oliver kept smiling and shrugged. “Never said I did.”

Felicity’s fake anger broke and she smiled. “Whatever. I’ll go see what’s up with Curtis and text you. See ya at dinner!” she said, hopping into her car and driving away.

No one noticed the Mayor of Star City had a bruised jaw that day, but one of the babies people seemed to constantly ask him to hold kept patting his scruff and came away with a mysteriously well-concealed hand.


	3. Standing on Swivel Chairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity may be a card-carrying member of MENSA, but even geniuses need to remember things they learned in kindergarten -- more specifically, it's dangerous to stand on a swivel chair.

It had been a few days since everyone had taken a break from Team Arrow – except for her and Oliver, obviously – and even though there were a hundred other things she could’ve been doing, she really hated having her work space in chaos.

Well, in chaos she didn’t create herself.

Until it was cleaned up, she and Oliver couldn’t do their jobs to the best of their abilities. Since Oliver was currently at his day job that was – in a full-circle moment – bankrolling the entire operation, that left Felicity.

Much like cooking, cleaning wasn’t a skill Felicity possessed. She was a naturally tidy person and rarely had to do a full-scale cleanup of her space. As long as she kept her things in order, she didn’t have to clean.

Because cleaning was the worst. Cooking was one thing. Ever since she started dating Oliver, she actually wanted to try to learn how to make edible food. It hadn’t worked – though she hadn’t burned water in a while now – but cooking was something she wanted to put effort into. Cleaning, though? It was like having to sit through a seventeen-year-old Best Buy manager tell her which processer was better.

Without an orderly space, though, they couldn’t save the city at night. Her computers were half-destroyed, the wiring in the whole lair was wonky, the training and weapons areas were in shambles, and the massive circular light was half hanging, half laying on the floor.

That was what Felicity was focusing on now – the light. It still occasionally sparked and flickered, which meant she had to check the wiring. It was fine down at the base, so she was checking the middle area that was hanging at an angle to find the problem. She needed to find out if she could fix the problem in house or if the entire fixture needed replacing.

Unfortunately, Felicity was… vertically challenged. And the fixture was tall. In all fairness, not even Oliver would’ve been able to reach the very top, but he might’ve not had to resort to such drastic measures.

Felicity was currently standing on the on the only chair to survive the attack on the lair: her computer chair. Though the cushioned chair and ergonomically designed backrest were perfect for hours of vigilante-ing, it wasn’t ideal for standing on with her arms almost all the way over her head. Thankfully, she was in leggings, a baggy MIT sweatshirt, and tennis shoes instead of her usual dress and heels. Sure, they were those fashionable wedge sneakers, but when she tried to find her actual flat ones she couldn’t. Maybe she should work out more often… In the end, she’d decided to take them off and sacrifice the height for a modicum of safety while standing on a chair.

To the point, she was standing with uncharacteristic sure-footedness on top of a swivel chair to fix a sparking light fixture. On the list of stupid things she’d done, this didn’t even rank. Besides, she was careful. She’d been building supercomputers since she was seven. Safety around electronics was practically ingrained in her.

She should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

In her concentration, she hadn’t noticed Oliver come down. “Hey!” he called, confused – no doubt by her current position – but pleased to see her.

She startled, surprised by his voice, and the chair went sideways under her. She grabbed on to the light to steady herself, but its precarious state couldn’t hold her weight and both IT girl and light fixture went crashing to the ground.

Oliver called her name – much more distressed than before – but Felicity was too busy groaning to respond.

Luckily, she was fine. Or, she assumed she was fine. Her head, hip, hands and wrists hurt, but nothing felt broken. Oliver crouched in front of her, gently tilting her face up so he could look into her eyes for a moment before swiftly looking over the rest of her.

“I’m fine,” she moaned, clenching her eyes shut and gingerly touching her head when speaking hurt. “At least, I think I am. Nothing’s broken. Don’t you knock? You scared me!” she chastised, poking him in the closest body part she could reach – his knee.

He huffed – the closest thing to a laugh he had at the moment – and before she knew it, she was swept into Oliver’s arms and he was standing.

“I can walk,” she insisted and he carried her to the recently-fixed medical area.

“There’s glass everywhere and you’re barefoot,” he explained, gently laying her on the cold table that made her grateful she was wearing leggings.

As much as she wanted to keep arguing, she knew it was just the pain talking and Oliver had a point. “Whatever,” she grumbled, not able to give him more than that at the moment.

He took it for the win it was and smiled a little while gathering some basic medical supplies. “I told you, I’m fine. No scratches or anything,” she repeated, doing her best to keep any snappiness out of her voice. She wasn’t irritated at Oliver. She was irritated at herself. This was where she deserved to be after standing on a swivel chair like an idiot. Wasn’t that something they taught kids not to do in like, kindergarten? She was a genius! She was a card-carrying member of MENSA. What made her think standing on a swivel chair was a good idea?

“Humor me,” Oliver said, interrupting her reverie. She sighed dramatically and nodded – just a little, though. Her head hurt if she moved it too much.

With the gentlest of touches, Oliver gently pushed all the places she was hurting, confirming that they were only bruised. He saved her head for last.

When his fingers brushed the knot on the back of her head, she hissed and tried to recoil, but his hand flexed just a little on the back of her head and held her in place despite her wince and noises of protest. “I think you have a concussion,” he said, studying her eyes intently.

Oh, well that would explain the foggy feeling.

Suddenly, a bright light was in her eyes and she slammed her eyes shut and flinched away, but his hand on her head kept her in place.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothed, sounding genuinely contrite. Which was the only reason she wasn’t leaping off the med table and running away from the flashlight from hell. “I need to see if you have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” she instantly protested, sitting up straighter and looking into Oliver’s eyes. “My name is Felicity Megan Smoak. I graduated from MIT in 2009 before I went to work for Queen Consolidated in the IT department. More recently, I’m IT help for a vigilante squad and previous CEO of Palmer Tech. Even more recently, I’m the lair cleanup crew and for some reason, some part of my brain decided it would be a good idea to stand on a swivel chair to try and check the wiring in our light fixture. Then, my vigilante partner so rudely came in and surprised me, so I fell off my chair, bruised my ego along with several body parts, and now we’re here. Talking about how I _don’t_ have a concussion.”

Oliver started smiling after a few sentences, and by the end he even laughed a little. “Okay, okay. I guess you don’t have a concussion. Still, I’m going to wake you up every two hours tonight to make sure,” he said, putting the equipment away.

Yeah, that was another thing. Since the destruction of the lair, they were living together again.

She couldn’t just let him stay in a destroyed basement! It was cruel. The place hardly had electricity and if he got up in the night to get water or something, he might trip over some debris and die! Or cut himself and get a staph infection!

Besides, she had to admit… It was kind of nice having someone around. The team was fractured, hopefully not forever, and Felicity was getting kind of lonely whenever Oliver wasn’t around. Thea and Lyla still wanted to do things, but the former didn’t want to ever even talk about anything vigilante related and the latter was so busy running a secret government organization and being, effectively, a single mom that she was too busy to hang out most of the time. Curtis was around, but he had a husband and a job.

So, they were back in the loft. Felicity had “moved out,” but it was hardly even a few weeks before she was back in their… _her_ bedroom at their old place. The loft was too much like home to leave. Oliver now stayed in the guest bedroom, and surprisingly it wasn’t awkward. Oh, there were times when she’d catch him gorgeously sweaty post-workout, blending some disgusting green smoothie to drink with his salmon and egg-white omelet as he cooked her French toast or waffles or whatever else he’d end up having a few bites of, too, because honestly who could live off such a healthy diet?

Anyway, it meant that he’d be there… in their room… waking her up every two hours to make sure she didn’t have a brain bleed.

Not the most romantic setting, but still.

Wait, why did Felicity want it to be romantic?

“Good luck with that,” Felicity said, cutting off her own thoughts. That was a rabbit hole she did _not_ want to go down at the moment.

He laughed, facing her again once all the medical supplies were back in their proper places. “I have a lot of experience with waking you up. I think I’ll be fine,” he said.

His voice was low and warmed Felicity from the inside out, no doubt bringing a blush to her cheeks. They weren’t back together, but there was definitely something there. In fact, it reminded Felicity of their first full year together on the team, the year after the Undertaking. Between Sebastian Blood and Slade Wilson, there had been moments of… _tension_. Then, the summer after that, I’d gone up a few more notches before Oliver finally asked her on their ill-fated first date.

If this summer was anything like that one, maybe it would end the same way.

Did Felicity want that?

The more she thought about it, the more she _did_ want it. She was getting closer and closer to forgiving Oliver. The possibility existed that he might lie to her again, yes, but she was beginning to realize that she might love him enough to take that chance.

Felicity hadn’t had time to rally her thoughts in enough of an order to respond, but her blush must have been enough. Oliver grinned and laid a hand on her thigh before moving away to the crashed light that had somehow avoided all of her computers.

“Stay right there. I’ll clean up all this glass and then we can work on the big stuff together,” he said, grabbing the broom and dust pan.

Felicity had to fight back a sigh at his words. Yeah, he was talking about glass and light fixtures, but the gravity in his tone made her think he was also talking about something else – _them_. They’d work on the big things together. He’d include her and not make unilateral decision that affected all of them by himself.

And she could still feel the heat of his hand lingering on her thigh.

Yeah, Felicity knew she was getting closer and closer to forgiving Oliver. She just wasn’t quite ready yet.


	4. Of Bikinis and Heat Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone should write an olicity oneshot about it being so freakin hot over summer and Felicity’s AC breaks so she calls Oliver to fix it.
> 
> Mostly I just want someone to fic Oliver walking in to the loft while Felicity’s got on like really short shorts and a bikini top. And he’s like dumbfounded he can’t move.
> 
> Done and done!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hijacking another prompt! It's one of my favorite things :)
> 
> I saw this as [a prompt on Tumblr](http://foreverfelicityqueen.tumblr.com/post/146586428796/someone-should-write-an-olicity-oneshot-about-it) and just had to write it!
> 
> Someone should write an olicity oneshot about it being so freakin hot over summer and Felicity’s AC breaks so she calls Oliver to fix it.
> 
> Mostly I just want someone to fic Oliver walking in to the loft while Felicity’s got on like really short shorts and a bikini top. And he’s like dumbfounded he can’t move

Oliver tried not to skip up the stairs to the loft. Firstly, he was the mayor and Green Arrow, so skipping lacked the proper gravity and decorum. Secondly, it had only been a few days since he’d seen Felicity and he didn’t want to freak her out with how much he missed her.

Since she insisted he move back in, they’d seen each other almost constantly unless he was at work or she was out trying to regain control of Palmer Tech. They ate together, protected the city together, and hung out during their rare moments of down time. They spent so much time together that going this long apart meant he already missed her. He was working on a particularly big infrastructure development project and it was taking almost all his time and attention, so he was staying in a hotel closer to city hall when he actually made it out of his office at night. He hadn’t seen Felicity in three days, except for brief moments getting to and leaving the lair at night.

Truthfully, he missed her whenever they were apart. Even if he’d just gone to work and knew he’d be seeing her for dinner at six.

He didn’t have the right to say that anymore, so he was trying his best to clamp down on those feelings. He couldn’t walk into her apartment, kiss her, and tell her (or show her) how much he missed her in the few hours they’d been apart.

 But, she’d called him and asked him to come back. Sure, it was because the air conditioning was broken and he said he knew how to fix it, but _Felicity_ had called _him_ and asked him to come back. Despite the circumstances, it felt like a step in the right direction and Oliver allowed himself a few _almost_ skips until he stopped at the door to the loft.

After a few moments of shifting his feet and indecision, he used his own key to enter the loft. She’d said they were roommates now and the place was as much his as hers.

“Felicity?” he called, already sweating in the oppressive summer heat that had invaded the loft despite all the balcony windows being thrown open.

He heard footsteps and turned to the stairs just as Felicity appeared at the top.

And Oliver felt like he swallowed his own tongue.

Bali was the first time Oliver had ever seen Felicity in a bikini. It wasn’t a coincidence that they spent most of their time there _not_ enjoying the beach. In fact, most of their time was spent not even wearing clothes. Oliver just couldn’t help himself. Felicity in a bikini was more temptation than he was able to resist. And it wasn’t like she complained. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Now, with her air conditioning out in the dead of summer, Felicity deemed it appropriate to bring them back out. Which it was, of course. Appropriate. It was hot, and she didn’t deal with dramatic changes in temperature well. During their relationship, the house in Ivy Town and the loft had to be kept at a perfect seventy-two degrees at all times.

Felicity was standing at the top of the stairs with a messy bun, glasses falling down her nose, tiny cutoff jean shorts, bare feet, and what had to be the smallest, most neon pink bikini top he’d ever seen. He could see more of her soft, pale skin than he’d been allowed to see since their breakup.

Oh, her mouth was moving. And she was coming down the stairs. Was he supposed to be answering her?

Felicity kept walking when she hit the bottom of the stairs and stopped right in front of him. For some reason, Oliver still couldn’t hear what she was saying. He was distracted by… everything about her. He swore he could feel the heat coming off her skin.

“… all right, Oliver?” her voice finally broke through the white noise that had invaded his head, and he blinked a few times to regain his focus.

“Uh… what?” he asked.

 _Smooth, Queen_ , he berated himself, hoping as hard as he could that his jaw wasn’t slack.

Felicity tilted her head and furrowed her brows, obviously confused. Damn, did she really not know the effect she still had on him? Was that possible? They were broken up, but he wasn’t _blind_. And he was still totally and completely in love with her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Is it that proposal? Is it going badly? Oh, if you were busy, you shouldn’t have come over! I could’ve called a professional or something. I know you’ve been totally swamped and I don’t want to stress you out even _more_ and – ”

“Felicity,” he interrupted, unable to keep a smile off his face. He didn’t think he’d ever stop loving her rambles. She bit her lip to stop the flow of words and blushed. God, he loved her. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”

Sure, he could’ve said something simpler like _‘it’s no problem’_ or _‘it’s fine,’_ but Oliver was trying to win back the trust and love of the most amazing woman he’d ever met. He wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to tell her he was fighting for them.

Felicity blushed again and blinked a few times, so he knew she got the message.

“So, let’s see what’s wrong with the air conditioning!”

He also knew she wasn’t ready, yet. It was disappointing, but he’d wait however long it took.

Felicity’s voice was much higher than usual, though, so he took some satisfaction that she was just as affected by the situation as he was.

But Oliver was on a mission. Arguably, the most important mission of his entire life. Failure wasn’t an option, and he needed to implement a new tactic.

When they got to the AC unit, just as Felicity turned to tell him what she thought the problem was, Oliver took his shirt off.

It wasn’t entirely fair, he knew. Felicity made it no secret, even before their relationship started, that she appreciated his body. She stared at him so often in the lair when he was training that it would’ve taken someone with much worse situational awareness skills than him _not_ to notice.

Once they started dating, she let him know through words and touch just how much she loved his body. Especially his chest and abs. There had been several memorable nights of her perched over him, taking her time going over every single inch of his skin with her lips and hands.

So, no, it wasn’t fair. But Oliver was going to use every advantage he had, fair or not.

Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t know what she was doing with the bikini and cutoff shorts.

“Wh-What are you doing?” she stammered, her big blue eyes glued to his bare chest so she didn’t see his tiny little smirk.

“It’s hot,” he said with a shrug, keeping his tone and eyes as innocent as possible. Felicity jerked her gaze up to his, obviously suspicious, but she didn’t want to call him on it.

Felicity bit her lip again like she was trying to force down a babble. After a few moments of a stare down, she finally looked back to the air conditioner. Oliver took it as a victory.

She quickly explained what was going on, and Oliver got to work.

After just a few minutes, Oliver found the problem. There was a refrigerant leak, and it was a pretty quick fix. So quick, in fact, that Oliver found it odd that Felicity hadn’t figured it out herself. Sure, she wasn’t an expert in everything, but she’d been taking computers apart since she was a kid. Even she would’ve been able to see the leak if she’d looked.

Had Felicity… wanted him to come over? Had the air conditioning gone out and, despite knowing how to fix the problem, she’d called him?

That was worth investigating.

After he finished up the fix, he grabbed his shirt (but kept it off – it _was_ still hot) and went to the kitchen where he could hear Felicity puttering around. Normally, the sounds of her in the kitchen inspired more dread than anything else, but he didn’t smell anything burning or Felicity muttering under her breath, so he assumed it was safe.

When he entered the main open space of the loft, he couldn’t help but pause and smile.

Felicity was in the kitchen, still in her cutoff shorts and bikini top, obviously reheating one of the meals he’d pre-prepared for her on the stove. As soon as he realized he was going to be gone for several days, he spent a whole Sunday cooking and freezing meals so Felicity would actually _eat_ while he was gone. Without him around, she had the diet of a fifteen-year-old boy. When she actually remembered to eat.

“Hey,” he said, walking forward again but giving her a warning so she wouldn’t startle.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled around the Oreo stuck in her mouth. She turned back around and called out a muffled, “Want a drink?”

He stepped up behind her, trying to be close enough to see over her shoulder but not _too_ close. Being broken up with her was a delicate dance of wanting to be close to her but respecting her boundaries.

“No, I’m fine. Making the Bolognese?” he asked, moving away to grab a bottle of red wine before she answered.

“Yep! I remember that one time you made it in Ivy Town and it was just _delicious_ ,” Felicity said.

He opened the wine and poured a glass for Felicity, handing it to her as she stirred the sauce.

The rest of the evening passed just like that. It was warm and full of laughter, and Oliver ignored every text that came through on his phone. He’d even silenced it so Felicity wouldn’t bother him to check his messages and convince him leave.

Eventually, Oliver put his shirt back on and Felicity changed, but the happy bubble that had formed around them didn’t fade.

Somehow, someway, Oliver was going to spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment and a kudo then head over to my Tumblr (same name) to chat with me! I love hearing from you guys.


	5. Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Oliver agree to babysit their favorite toddler, because if anyone deserves a day off it's Lyla. The idyllic evening makes Oliver think of the future he wants and what he'll do to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get fluff, and you get fluff, and you get fluff!
> 
> Why make bad things happen when awesome, fluffy things can happen instead?

Oliver came home – it still felt like an amazing, precious gift to be able to call the loft _home_ again – after a long day of mayoral duties, but he wasn’t tired. In fact, he felt an energizing excitement that had been sorely missing from his life since he started working nine-to-five plus overtime that left him too busy to suit up most nights.

When Lyla had called one night asking them to babysit because some of her friends from college were coming into town, Oliver was empathically saying yes before she even got the whole question out. He didn’t quite know why. He loved baby Sara, of course, and he knew how hard a time Lyla was having without John. If anyone deserved a break, it was her.

But there was something else. Something that had said okay to exploding glitter wedding invitations and pink feathers at his engagement party. Something that had been dreaming further than that, of a house in the suburbs, Felicity complaining about swollen ankles and maternity clothes, and the patter of tiny feet in the hallways.

Oliver didn’t dwell too often on those thoughts. Even getting closer to Felicity again and starting to work toward true reconciliation, those lost dreams were too painful. Maybe they weren’t lost forever, but Oliver was focusing on getting the love of his life back first.

Oliver opened the door to the loft, managing to carry all the grocery bags in one hand. Felicity always offered to go to the store for him, but after The Canned Peach Incident Oliver just went himself.

The overly loud sound of “Love Is an Open Door” sung in four parts – two on the actual movie, one very loud and off-key, and the last quieter – greeted him.

Felicity was holding baby Sara and dancing in front of the TV. The toddler seemed more interested in the actual movie than her Aunt Felicity, but whenever Felicity jumped or dipped Sara she giggled without fail.

“I guess I haven’t missed the good parts yet,” he said, announcing his presence as he moved into the kitchen and put the groceries down on the island.

Sara whipped around at the sound of his voice and immediately started wiggling in Felicity’s arms, obviously wanting to be let down.

“Use your words, Sara,” Felicity said, obviously employing the tactics Lyla told them about to get the little toddler to speak more. She was much less loquacious than other children her age, which had Lyla a little worried. Apparently, she was supposed to be trying to make simple sentences by now. Felicity thought Sara was just stoic like her dad, but followed Lyla’s rules to a T.

Sara looked mulishly at Felicity, but the blonde just raised an eyebrow. Sara scowled for a moment before saying, “Down, p’ease,” in her surprisingly strong voice.

Felicity smiled – a full, big, bright smile that had Oliver helplessly transfixed – and kissed Sara on the cheek before setting her down. “There’s that pretty voice,” she said, but the toddler was already running across the living space (which had been carefully toddler-proofed before the babysitting venture).

Sara toddled into the kitchen and slammed into Oliver’s legs at full speed. She would’ve bounced off, but Oliver was already half bent over and immediately wrapped his arms around her when she crashed into him. He knew she didn’t want to be picked up because she wasn’t flailing her arms over her head.

It caused a surprising surge of pride that he could read an almost-two-year-old so well.

Felicity was just a few steps behind Sara, a happy, thoughtful smile on her face as she watched the two of them. It was the kind of look he’d imagined her having when he held their own children.

 _Pull yourself together, Queen_.

“How was your day?” he asked, ruffling Sara’s hair before standing up and getting out the ingredients for dinner. Before, this was the moment when he would’ve leaned over and soundly kissed his fiancée after not seeing her all day – except maybe a sneaky visit during lunch that might’ve led to more – but he didn’t have the right to do that anymore. He hoped they’d be back there sooner rather than later.

Felicity looked like he thoughts were in the same place, but Oliver thought it was promising. Before all the lies, he and Felicity had been good together. So good. _Very_ good. And not just at sex. He was going to remind her as often as possible how amazing they had been together while simultaneously showing her he’d never lie to her or intentionally leave her out of a decision again. Whatever it took. However long it took. The thought of a future without Felicity in it was too bleak to contemplate.

“Isn’t that my line?” she asked, tilting her head after plopping on to a barstool on the other side of the island. “You were the one at work all day.”

Oliver finished unloading the groceries and got to work on dinner. Sara was a quiet, constant presence by his legs. She knew Oliver would lift her up to watch what was happening when there was something interesting to see.

“Like you aren’t way busier than me,” he said, giving Felicity a look before he continued dinner prep. “I work nine to five signing things, meeting with people, and sitting in an office. It’s a lot like being QC CEO again, except I’m actually good at it.”

Felicity rolled her eyes but didn’t argue as he continued. “You’re constantly working with Curtis after hours on the bio-stimulant even though the board fired you, trying to get Palmer Tech back, monitoring stuff for our night job, helping me out, and today you had this little monster,” he said, picking Sara up and blowing a raspberry on her belly. The toddler shrieked and laughed, wiggling in her favorite uncle’s arms until he set her on the island. She was far enough away from the prep area to be out of danger from the sharp objects, but close enough to observe the process.

“Oh, she’s no trouble at all,” Felicity said, smiling softly at the toddler who was enraptured by Oliver’s hands. They learned during their first round of babysitting that Sara absolutely loved to watch Oliver cook. It took her full attention and, more importantly, she was quiet while doing it.

“So, how _was_ your day?” Oliver asked again, glancing up at Felicity for a moment, unable to keep his eyes off her face for too long, before looking back at the food.

Felicity launched into a detailed description of her day, sipping the water Oliver put in front of her when she sat down.

Oliver listened with rapt attention as she described working with Curtis, meeting with her lawyers to try and get back Palmer Tech, then picking up Sara and going to the park.

“Lyla said not to feed her too much sugar, but we went for ice cream,” Felicity said, her eyes moving from Oliver to Sara again. There was a glow in her eyes that made Oliver hopeful her thoughts were going the same route his had earlier.

They talked while Oliver prepared dinner. Whenever he paused too long in his task to gesticulate or listen more intently to a story Felicity was telling, Sara would bang her little hands against the island and stare at Oliver’s hands intently until he resumed his task. No one knew why the little girl was so interested in cooking, but Oliver secretly hoped they had a little Master Chef in training.

He refused to think about the dreams of his own blonde-haired, blue-eyed children gathered around him, learning how to make omelets as their mother looked on with fond exasperation that children were better cooks than her.

Once he was done with dinner – penne alla vodka with homemade sauce, salad and garlic bread for the adults, mac and cheese with dinosaur chicken nuggets for Sara – they all sat at the table and ate.

It was blissful. Sara made an art project out of some of her mac and cheese, but ate most of it which they counted as a win. Felicity told Oliver funny stories about her day and he did the same. The evening was full of laughter and only a little bit of flying cheese and it was the most peace he’d felt in weeks.

Later, once the dishes were in the washer and the table cleaned, the three of them sat on the couch and started _Finding Dory_. Felicity had used her hacking prowess for evil (just this once, she claimed) because she claimed if she had to watch _Finding Nemo_ or _Frozen_ one more time, she’d let go of the inhuman shrieks she was keeping at bay.

After only a half hour, Felicity was asleep on Oliver’s shoulder, his arm thrown across the back of the couch. Sara was between them, quiet but awake, her huge eyes taking in all the wonders of what would probably be her new obsession. Oliver sat still, not wanting to wake Felicity, and took the moment in like the gift it was.

This would be his future if he had anything to say about it. A normal day, dinner with Felicity, and a kid (or five) piled on the couch with them watching the latest Disney movie their mom had managed to hack off the production house’s servers.

In that moment, Oliver vowed to make that vision a reality.

However long it took.

Though, he hoped it would happen relatively soon. Children took time, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need more ideas for this 4.5 drabble series, so drop me a few ideas in the comments! Or head over to my Tumblr (same name) and chat with me there. I love hearing from you guys and I want to hear what you think might happen during the hiatus.
> 
> Next chapter is already planned (another character finally comes into the story!) but after that I'm not too sure what's gonna happen.


	6. Truth Tea at Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Lyla manage to find time in their busy schedules to have brunch. Lyla drops some truth bombs Felicity isn't ready to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo I'm back! I'm concentrating on this now that I've finished "Love Through a Lens" and I only have like 2 months before Arrow starts! I'll be officially ending this drabble series then, though I will write a fic if something in 4.5 is referenced and I'm inspired.
> 
> Anyway, here's Lyla! She and Felicity need some girl time. I also address Havenrock, Thea, and my personal feelings about John abandoning his wife and toddler to go Find Himself™.

“Lyla!” Felicity called out, waving at her friend who was already seated. The other woman smiled and got up to hug Felicity.

“It’s good to see you,” Lyla said as they sat back down. “I feel like whenever I manage to get a sitter, it’s either you or you’re busy with Curtis or Oliver.”

Felicity definitely heard the implication in Lyla’s tone when she mentioned Oliver but chose to ignore it. “I know! Things have been so hectic this summer. But you know Oliver and I never mind babysitting. You deserve a break every now and then,” Felicity said, grinning at her friend from over the menu at Clafoutis, arguably one of the city’s most popular brunch spots. It didn’t take reservations, but Oliver had used some of that mayoral influence to get them in so they could spend a casual Saturday morning together. He was even watching baby Sara.

“You do too, Felicity,” Lyla said, her blue eyes suddenly serious.

Once again, Felicity knew exactly what Lyla wanted to talk about and looked around almost desperately for anything else to talk about when the waiter came back with the mimosas Lyla ordered for them before Felicity arrived.

He asked if they were ready as Felicity took a large mouthful of mimosa. She planned on asking several questions about the menu and their specials to try and distract Lyla, but the other woman said they weren’t ready yet and he scampered away.

“You’ve been going nonstop. I know why you’re doing this. I’ve been through the same thing and so has Oliver.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lyla.”

The director of A.R.G.U.S. continued on like Felicity hadn’t even spoken. “It’s because of Havenrock.”

The name hit Felicity like a sucker punch. For one endless, horrifying moment, she wasn’t on a surprisingly sunny Star City sidewalk having brunch with her friend. She was in the middle of nuclear winter, nothing but desolation and death for miles. Her stomach twisted and she was afraid she might see her mimosa again.

“Felicity?” Lyla’s voice broke through the vacuum, bringing her back to the restaurant and the beautiful day.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Felicity managed to say, looking up at Lyla with a serious expression that came across a little deader than she intended.

Lyla was worried, of course. She talked to Oliver pretty frequently outside of just babysitting requests, and he was always talking about how Felicity was constantly going. She wasn’t showing any outward signs of depression or PTSD, but they both knew it was only a matter of time. At the moment, Felicity was forcing herself to be so busy that her mind didn’t have time to catch up and think about everything that happened in May.

Lyla had come to this brunch hoping she could break some ground with Felicity about what she was struggling with, but a good friend knows when to push and when to back down. From Felicity’s rigid posture and hard eyes, Lyla could tell this was a time to back down. And maybe jumping on her first thing hadn’t been the best idea. It was time for a tactical retreat.

“Okay,” she agreed, watching Felicity practically deflate in front of her from relief. “I just want you to know I’m here for you if you want to talk. I’ve been through it before.”

Felicity nodded, smiling like the first rays of sunshine after a storm. “I know. And same goes for you. I know John being gone has to be really hard on you and Sara,” she said, much more soft and open now that they weren’t talking about her problems.

That was Felicity. Always willing to help others, even at the cost of herself.

Lyla nodded, glancing down at the beautiful set table with a sigh. “I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t think it would be _this_ hard. He talked to be about reenlisting, but what was I supposed to say? I can’t say no or I’m the selfish wife who doesn’t want her husband to heal. I just wish we’d talked about it _before_ he just decided it was the only way he could get over Andy,” Lyla said, letting her sadness well up for a moment since she was in the presence of a friend. Normally, she didn’t have the luxury. She had to be strong for Sara, for A.R.G.U.S., for everyone. Here, though, with Felicity’s kind eyes shining bright in the sunlight, she let herself feel a hint of the sadness that had taken root in her heart since the day Johnny left.

Their waiter came back to take their order and the mask slammed back into place. They both got another mimosa, Lyla ordered eggs benedict and Felicity ordered a cinnamon roll pancakes. If Oliver wasn’t cooking, she had a massive sweet tooth. (Even when Oliver was cooking she had a massive sweet tooth, but he had a limit on how much sugar he would put in things he cooked.)

When the waiter walked away again, Lyla leaned a little closer to Felicity, keeping her voice down due to the crowd around them, grinned, and said, “So, you’re living with Oliver.”

Much like before, her tone left little to the imagination.

“Yes, because otherwise he’d be living in a half-destroyed basement,” Felicity said testily, like it was totally normal to move in with your ex-fiancé and Lyla was weird for suggesting it wasn’t.

“And I’m sure there’s just nowhere else he could live even though he has a job now.”

Felicity raised her head high but her cheeks were bright pink. “He just started his job and he’s taking a lower salary than previous mayors so he can put the money toward rebuilding infrastructure. He shouldn’t have to worry about trying to find somewhere close to city hall and his night job when he can just stay with me. I have plenty saved up from when I worked at Palmer Tech. I didn’t spend it _all_ on shoes. And you know I freelance,” she said like this was a totally normal situation people found themselves in every day.

Lyla _did_ know Felicity freelanced. In fact, since taking over as director of A.R.G.U.S., Lyla had asked her to do a few coding jobs for the agency. All very hush-hush, of course, in that no one in A.R.G.U.S. knew who was designing some of the new software. Lyla enjoyed working with Felicity but she wasn’t going to put her friend on any government agency’s radar.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to jerk Oliver around like this? You ended the engagement, after all.”

Felicity looked confused, her head tilted to the side. “Jerking him around? I’m not doing that. We’re both single, we’re just living together because it’s convenient and we’re friends. It’s just us two down in that bunker,” she said, somehow managing not to sound at all like she was blaming Lyla. Usually, Lyla found Felicity’s guileless innocence charming and refreshing, but this time was different.

“Really?” she asked, arching her brow. “So you’d be fine if he brought someone home?”

“We have an agreement about that.”

Lyla raised her other brow to match the first. “Oh, really?”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “We talked about it before he moved in. I said if either of us wanted to… _spend the evening_ with someone, we should do it at their place. The loft is both of ours and it isn’t right for one of us to get kicked out because the other… _has company_ ,” Felicity said, managing to avoid any and all babbles and awkward innuendos.

Which let Lyla know she’d thought about it before. Extensively.

“Mhmm. Has that been an issue yet?” Lyla asked.

“Nope. Oliver’s really busy working two full-time jobs and I’m working with Curtis a lot and helping Oliver if he runs into a snag. It’s like being his EA again but about a million times better,” she said, grinning suddenly like she remembered something funny.

Lyla laughed a little. “I bet. Especially since, if anyone in Oliver’s office treated you like some of the people at QC did back then, they’d get a particular nighttime visitor,” she said, smirking just a little when Felicity blushed red and looked around furtively.

“No one’s paying attention to us,” she said, reassuring the blonde on the other side of the table. Felicity nodded, obviously trusting a secret agent’s situational awareness more than her own.

The waiter came by with their food then and they dug in, Felicity with her usual amount of gusto. Lyla ate much more slowly. At first glance she would’ve been called dainty, but in truth she ate with a quiet, efficient precision borne of years of tense dinners with morally ambiguous government officials.

Lyla surreptitiously watched her friend while she ate. Oliver said she was skipping meals and it was starting to show. The man did his best, but he had a real job during the day now and wasn’t there to entice Felicity to eat some delicious lunch or another. If she spent all her time with Curtis, neither could pull themselves away from the work long enough to take a break.

Felicity hadn’t been like that before. Even when she was working, she snacked if she was hungry. Granola bars or something she could hold by the wrapper to keep from getting grease or crumbs on her babies. Now, though, Felicity was digging into the pancakes like she hadn’t eaten in a week and telling Lyla about the R&D binge she and Curtis had gone on last night at his apartment. Paul was out of town at a conference, so no one was there to reign in the geniuses.

“You didn’t get in until 2 a.m.? You could’ve cancelled, Felicity. You need sleep,” Lyla said, suddenly concerned. She didn’t see any bags under her friend’s eyes, but Felicity had a masterful hand when it came to makeup.

Felicity shook her head. “And miss all this?” she asked, gesturing to the pancakes, mimosas, Lyla, and the restaurant in one, broad sweep that almost smacked the lady sitting behind her. “I can sleep later.”

Lyla recognized then that her questions were becoming a bit invasive to Felicity, so rather than have her friend shut down again Lyla just decided to have brunch like normal people. One of which whose husband had run off to the military again to avoid dealing with his emotions and the other who was living with her ex-fiancé, technically unemployed, and a vigilante.

So maybe they’d never be _normal_ , but truthfully Lyla thought being normal was overrated anyway.

They kept the chatter as normal as they could. Sara, plans for the week, Skyping with Johnny, and Thea. The younger woman hadn’t left Star City, but she was processing through her own hurt and pain and having a rough go of it as far as Felicity could tell. Lyla wondered if Felicity subconsciously saw some of her own struggle in Thea’s.

They laughed and had an otherwise pleasant morning, but Lyla didn’t forget the ghosts in Felicity’s eyes when she mentioned Havenrock or the fact that Felicity hadn’t eaten in almost a day. She hated to go behind her friend’s back, but she was genuinely worried about Felicity. Since Oliver was living with her, maybe he could get through to her in ways that Lyla couldn’t.

They said their goodbyes and hugged each other tight, promising to hang out again come hell or high water. Lyla had a feeling that Felicity missed girl time and made a note to suggested a girl’s night with her, Thea and Felicity. She wasn’t really huge on the whole face masks, junk food and movies thing, but she knew Thea and Felicity were and they needed all the support they could get right now.

Felicity offered to keep Sara for the rest of the day so Lyla could run the many errands that had fallen by the wayside since she essentially became a single mother. With one final hug, they left the restaurant.

Whatever happened, Lyla wasn’t going to let Felicity fall through the cracks into despair and grief. What she’d been through was a true tragedy, but it had been the only thing to do in an unavoidably horrible situation.

Thankfully, she knew she wasn’t alone in that fight. Oliver was going to fight for Felicity every step of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Drop me a comment and kudo here then head over to my Tumblr (same name) and chat with me! I'm also taking prompts for this little 4.5 universe.


	7. A Night Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver has been burning the candle at both ends and Felicity manages to convince him to take a night off. His only condition? She has to take a night off, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all asked for sexual tension, so here ya go! I'm really proud of this installment, guys. It might be my favorite one so far.
> 
> I finally know how I want to end this, too. So yay! There will be a happy ending, fam. Don't worry.
> 
> Also, you'll notice the rating change. There's a few vague mentions of past sexytimes in this chapter, but nothing explicit. Probably no sex in this drabble series, guys. Sorry. I just wanted to be safe! Do you guys think I can keep it Teen or is Mature better? I don't want to traumatize some poor 11-year-old reading fanfic for the first time. (Do I speak from experience? Maybe.)
> 
> Anyway, read on, my friends! And everyone go give a lot of love to ChronicOlicity, who motivated me with a lot of tough love to finally finish this chapter.

“You’re exhausted, Oliver! I think you _actually_ have dark circles, which has to be a first because of your freakish ability to go without sleep indefinitely. Seriously, I think you should talk to someone about it so they can do studies and help people with – three, two, one. _Anyway_ , you’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Star City is on its own tonight. You can’t keep going on like this and still give the city your best. Take a night off.”

“I can’t, Felicity. I still have to go over those budget proposals for rebuilding the part of the Glades that’s still down from the Undertaking and – ”

“It’s important, but _it can wait_. That meeting isn’t even until later next week. If you get behind, I’ll help you. Besides, it’s been raining all morning and it’s only getting worse. The weather channel says it’s supposed to be the biggest storm of the summer. The criminal element will be taking the night off, too.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m constantly monitoring the Internet presence of every known criminal in the city. They’re all taking a night off and so are you.”

“… I forgot how stubborn you can be.”

“I learned from the best.”

“I don’t believe that. I still remember you standing up to me in the lair and locking me out of my own systems.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a delight.”

“Don’t forget I’ve heard all your childhood horror stories from Donna, but I’ll let it slide. I’ll take a night off if you do. You’ve been working just as hard as me.”

“Is that an agreement, Mr. Mayor?”

“I do believe it is, Miss Smoak. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Not as hard as you.”

“…”

“Frack. Please just forget that I can talk.”

“Never.”

 

* * *

 

Felicity hadn’t planned on taking a night off with Oliver, but as soon as he suggested it she knew it was a good idea. After her brunch with Lyla she was trying to take better care of herself as not to worry her friends. They had enough on their plates.

It also helped that as soon as Paul got home from work, he kicked Felicity out of Curtis’ home office/lab. She should’ve known he and Oliver were in cahoots.

Despite the early end to her night, Oliver still managed to beat her home. Then again, city employees couldn’t work in the office past five p.m. unless it was a special case. Usually, Oliver went home and buried his head back into work until it was time for vigilante duty. Tonight, Felicity opened the apartment door to see him in the kitchen making dinner. It wasn’t so unusual – Oliver cooked for them both most of the time – but he wasn’t simultaneously reading official documents or watching the news. Instead, soft music filled the space and created a calming effect totally at odds with the thunderstorm chucking it down with rain outside the massive loft windows.

And Oliver was singing.

She couldn’t help but pause to watch him, her raincoat and umbrella dripping on the concrete floor.

“Does every rose really have its thorn, Oliver?”

As soon as she spoke, Oliver looked up and grinned. He wasn’t surprised, of course – he’d probably heard her as soon as she started walking down the hall to the loft. It made her happy that he let her see him in such an unguarded moment.

“Just like every night has its dawn,” he teased, still smiling that easy smile that made her heart clench and her lips kick up to return the expression.

Felicity laughed, happy to see his more humorous side was out to play. She took off her rain boots and left them by the door. If she didn’t remember to grab them on her way to bed, she knew they’d be neatly sitting outside her bedroom door by morning. Oliver was a neat freak but he never complained about her less-than-tidy tendencies. She took off her rain coat and hung both it and her umbrella on the hooks by the door. Now she was left in jeans, her socks that had the London tube map on them, and an “Oliver Queen for Mayor” t-shirt she’d had made shortly after he announced his candidacy.

Her purse found its home on the far edge of the island counter, which she would remember to take upstairs without fail because it has her phone charger in it.

Felicity took a seat on the island, picking up the glass of red wine Oliver sat in front of her as soon as she was settled.

“Ooo, pizza,” Felicity said, grinning and wiggling her toes in excitement. As a total food snob, Oliver only ate takeout when it was completely unavoidable. Including pizza. At first, this had been a major problem in their relationship. Felicity was an avid believer that takeout was one of the four main food groups, right up there with ice cream, red wine and Doritos. Taking that as a personal challenge, Oliver went on to learn how to make every single one of her favorite takeout dishes and prove his versions were better. He’d succeeded, of course. Felicity realized a long time ago there wasn’t much Oliver couldn’t do when he put his mind to it.

“Yep. And I already cut up the toppings so you can help me decorate,” he said, throwing a smile over his shoulder. He paused for a moment, taking in her shirt. His eyes flashed with an emotion that would’ve been too fast to read if Felicity had been anyone else, but she saw it before he turned back around. Desire and longing tinged with regret.

“Nice shirt,” he said as he turned back around, somehow managing to keep all those emotions out of his voice as he monitored the pizza sauce. She knew from many other nights like this one that the dough was already rising in the fridge. As far along as he was in the sauce, it would be ready in a few minutes. “How did everything go with Curtis?”

Felicity took a sip of her wine – delicious, as usual – and smiled even though his back was turned. She launched into an account of her whole day, complete with facial expressions and hand gestures. It started out a bit frustrating, which was unfortunately the norm, but then Curtis had a breakthrough with a lighter, less expensive polymer he’d been trying to develop.

“… so we might be able to not only use this lighter polymer, but also use less _of_ it. Then I was working on a circuit board and those things are so miniscule it’s crazy and our big problem was with the backpropagation neural network not communicating fully with the data structure and… Frack, I’m sorry,” she said, realizing Oliver had already gotten the dough, tossed it, and laid it on the baking tray. “I just totally took over the conversation.”

Oliver just shook his head and smiled, putting the pizza on the island with all the chopped ingredients. He was smiling a lot tonight, which surprised Felicity. He usually didn’t react well to thunderstorms, and the one outside was raging. Instead of getting all broody and prowling the loft like danger was around every pillar, he was standing there with an easy smile on his face making pizza.

“I love hearing about your day, Felicity,” he said. Felicity could almost hear the echo of _if you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me_.

She got to her feet to snap out of her brief flashback and moved to stand beside him at the island. “Well that’s good, because I certainly talk a lot. It’s nice to have someone to actually tell it to instead of just wandering around talking to myself all the time. Though I like to pretend I’m talking to Hernando to make myself feel better. Most people think it’s weird when people talk to themselves all the time. You know they did a study on – ”

“Hernando?” Oliver asked, his body turned slightly toward her to give her his full attention. His head was tilted and his brows were furrowed, but his blue eyes were light and happy. Altogether, he looked entirely too handsome.

Felicity nodded, gesturing to the potted indoor tree in the corner. “Yeah, I named him Hernando. I didn’t have a fish or anything and he’s technically a fake plant – because let’s be real, I don’t have the time to keep a plant alive – but he’s real in my heart,” she said, staring at Hernando the houseplant for a moment longer before looking back at Oliver.

Who was laughing. At her.

She elbowed him in the side and wrinkled her nose when he exclaimed, “Ow!” and had the audacity to pretend it actually hurt.

“Oh, suck it up Mr. I Can Stitch My Own Wounds, Dislocate My Thumb to Escape Handcuffs, and Inject My Broken Knee with Lidocaine. All I’m saying is, it’s nice to actually have someone to talk to again. And I like hearing about your day, too,” she said, watching his laughter fade but the warmth remained.

He was staring down at her. Gazing, really. There wasn’t anything inappropriate about it, but the look was a touch too… _much_ to be something just between friends. Or platonic roommates. There was a weight and heat to it that Felicity was intimately familiar with, but hadn’t actually experienced since February.

All of a sudden, Felicity felt hot. She was scant inches from Oliver, staring into his blue, blue eyes. Energy crackled between them like the electricity from the storm raging outside. It felt heady, intimate and… _vulnerable_. Helpless, Felicity glanced at Oliver’s lips. She could remember in exact detail how they felt against her mouth, her neck, her stomach, and _lower_ … They were in the loft, laughing, teasing, talking, and sharing. He was making her dinner, listening to her, and reminding her – intentionally or not – of how amazing things had been when they were together. She could have it all again. Oliver was _right there._ And the heated look in his eyes told her that his thoughts were along the same line.

They both leaned in, drawn to each other like magnets, before bleak reality crashed back into Felicity’s mind. Lies. Samantha. _William_.

She turned at the last moment, looking back at their dinner prep and ignoring the lightest brush of Oliver’s lips against her cheek as if he hadn’t been able to stop his forward momentum fast enough. “So, you know I like extra everything so just pile on the sauce to start,” she said, staring fixedly at the dough and forcing herself not to notice how Oliver’s shoulders slumped slightly or imagine what his face looked like in that moment.

“You know, most people like more sauce _or_ more cheese,” Oliver said, nothing in his tone suggesting that they’d been about to kiss moments ago. Felicity only hoped she sounded so composed.

With a bright smile, she looked up at him and shrugged. “Aren’t you glad I’m not most people?” she asked.

“More than you can ever know,” Oliver said, his tone suddenly heavy and serious though he didn’t stop ladling and spreading the pizza sauce. Immediately, she was snapped back to that feeling from a few moments before, as if it was never really far away.

Felicity felt like her foundation rock. He’d expressed similar sentiments while they were together, often saying she saved him. That he wouldn’t be alive, let alone a hero – though he hesitated to call himself that even still – if he hadn’t walked into her cubicle that day and changed both their lives forever. It usually made her both sad and deliriously happy. Sad because he didn’t think that he had it in himself to become a better person on his own, but happy because it told her he felt the same magnitude of what she felt for him. Felicity had changed Oliver’s life to the same extreme degree that he had changed hers.

The fact that he still felt that way after all the anger, arguments and heartbreak both broke her heart and made it sing.

On a whim, in a desperate bid to lighten the moment, Felicity swiped her finger through some of the sauce on the edge of the pizza. She licked a little bit of it and moaned, “Oh my gosh, this is even better than last time.”

It didn’t work.

Oliver suddenly but gently brought her hand to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the remaining sauce on her finger. Her eyes flew to his, wide and warm, surprised by the sudden intent she saw on his face. He looked like a man on a very pleasurable mission. His mouth was warm and wet as he sucked the pizza sauce off her skin, making her face flush. Then, his tongue licked around her finger, getting all traces of the sauce off, and Felicity practically combusted. She felt every suck and lick like it was happening between her thighs.

“Mmm, it is good,” he said, his breath fanning across her hand he was still holding near his mouth. If his eyes hadn’t already heated her blood, his husky voice turned her into a pillar of fire. That voice usually didn’t make an appearance outside the bedroom and Felicity’s mind had no trouble taking her back to the many, _many_ times they were together. Ten months and eleven days of being together. Frequently. Passionately. _Intimately_.

A huge crack of thunder that sounded like it was splitting the loft in half made Felicity jerk violently and stare out the windows. Thankfully, it also made Oliver release her hand and gave them a few inches of precious space. Felicity tried not to think about why it felt more like miles as she struggled to control her breathing and sudden, raging lust.

Both of them ignored how the bright flash of lightning and loud thunder unsettled them. Felicity knew Oliver still hated storms and probably always would. Oliver knew Felicity saw the nuclear missile drop on Havenrock in her dreams. Sometimes they talked about it, but most of the time they didn’t. Oliver had talked through a lot of his storm-related feelings while they were together, but Felicity’s trauma didn’t happen until after they were broken up. Even though she knew Oliver would understand – truthfully, he was probably the best person to talk to about everything – but Felicity just wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“So, what do we have?” Felicity asked, despite the fact that she was looking at the toppings spread out on the island. “Oh, you got pineapple. That’s awesome. I know you don’t really like it on pizza and it’s a huge divisive thing on the internet, but it’s just so delicious. There’s something about the way the sweetness melds with the sauce and cheese that just makes it so…delicious.”

Well, now she felt like an idiot. Rambling about pineapple after _whatever_ just happened between them.

“Felicity,” Oliver said. She had to stop herself from shivering at the sound of his voice. There were a million ways Oliver said her name and she loved every single one of them. This particular version was amused, indulgent and a little bit teasing.

After a few seconds, she turned to look at him. The warmth in his blue eyes almost made her melt. Then he had to open his mouth and ruin it by saying, “Pineapple is an absolute abomination to have on pizza.”

Felicity gaped and tried to act indignant, but broke almost immediately. She couldn’t help but laugh. She swatted his arm, which probably hurt her hand more than him. “Be careful what you say, mister! I know all your account numbers and will defend pineapple’s honor,” she warned. It was an old, familiar threat that carried absolutely no weight.

Oliver smiled wider. “I’d never dare to hold it against you. What would happen the next time City Hall’s internet goes out?” he asked.

Felicity shook her head, rolled her eyes, and said, “I can’t believe some idiot _actually_ downloaded porn on to a _city computer_. That’s a problem I haven’t had to deal with in a long time.”

Their chatter was light after that, sticking to his work day and what to put on their pizza. Oliver kept the cheese light and vegetables heavy on his half. He even put _arugula_ on his side. Lettuce on a pizza was a much bigger sin than pineapple. When she said so, he threw a mushroom at her.

Felicity was sorely tempted to start a food fight, but she was really hungry and didn’t want to waste time cleaning up the ingredients.

They made their halves of the pizza and put it in the oven. It didn’t have to bake for long, and they spent that time sipping their respective drinks – wine for Felicity, water for Oliver – and talking more about Oliver’s proposals to clean up after the Undertaking and his assistant’s new puppy. It was a Newfoundland named Smokey and Felicity immediately stated she was going into the office soon to meet it and claim pet sitting privileges. Sure, she’d never had a dog, but the thing was basically her namesake.

It felt easy. Familiar. It was everything their time away had been, but better. They were back in their home, their friends only a short drive away, and their mission to protect the city was on the right track. If Felicity could ignore the massive lies and betrayal between them.

Honestly, it was getting easier and easier to understand Oliver’s side of the story. He’d never been the best at telling the truth. She assumed he’d gotten better during their time together, after the whole fiasco with trusting _Malcolm Merlyn_ and lying to the entire team, but she should’ve known better. The kind of trauma that leads to Oliver’s past behavior can’t be healed overnight, even by another person. Maybe especially by another person. The only person who could ultimately heal Oliver’s trauma was Oliver. Even then, Felicity knew it would probably never fully heal. They both had emotional and physical scars they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

The question wasn’t forgiveness anymore. Felicity loved Oliver to her bones, and the minute she said yes to forever with him she forgave him for everything he’d ever done and everything he ever would do. That was the real, forever kind of love she’d only ever felt for Oliver.

The question was, could Felicity live with the possibility of it happening again. Situations _would_ arise where Oliver felt like the best choice was lying to protect her. It was naïve to think otherwise. He swore he would do better, _be_ better in those situations, and she believed him. But setbacks happened.

Could Felicity live with another one?

Their pizzas finished and they ate them relatively quickly, not realizing how hungry they were until they smelled the delicious aroma of cooked cheese.

Finally, dinner was done but neither was eager to retreat to their rooms. The storm was still raging, pouring more rain into the streets than even Star City was used to in one night.

They sat at the table in comfortable silence, both lost in their thoughts, until Felicity had to break it. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” she asked suddenly, meeting Oliver’s surprised, hopeful eyes when his head snapped up.

“Uh… Um, yeah,” he said, stammering for probably the second time in his life like she’d surprised him. Felicity still had fond memories of him stumbling over asking her on a date, regardless of how that date ended. “Did you have anything in mind?”

Oh, did she ever. Oliver’s pop culture education was severely lacking. Sure, he’d spent five years away, but he never made much of an effort before the island and definitely didn’t after it.

“It’s me. Of course I have something in mind. Come on!”

Oliver followed Felicity to the living room. She got started setting up Netflix while he assembled the pillow and blankets and refilled her wine glass. This was a routine from their time away – and together in Star City – that neither had forgotten.

“ _Stranger Things_?” Oliver asked as they settled on the couch. If this had been eight months ago, Felicity would be curled into his side with her legs thrown over his lap. This time, she was sitting under a blanket pile, surrounded by pillows, armed with the remote and her wine. There was a decent couch-cushion-sized space between them, but Felicity immediately leaned closer to explain as the title sequence ran.

“Yep. It’s a Netflix original series, not a movie, but I think you’ll like it.”

“Netflix makes TV shows?”

“Oh, Oliver. It’s like you don’t even try.”

 

* * *

 

Felicity woke suddenly but peacefully. One moment she was asleep and the next she was grudgingly awake yet strangely alert, staring at the blank TV screen. She must have fallen asleep. After the week – or summer, really – she’s had, she couldn’t really blame herself.

Instead of gently covered in blankets, she’s firmly wrapped up like a blanket burrito. As warm and wonderful as it is, she feels the need to shift. So, she rolled on to her back to attempt escape only to notice that whatever was under her head was _not_ the couch.

She froze for a moment before remember Oliver was on the couch too. Oliver. _Oliver_. Was she asleep on _Oliver_?

Slowly, Felicity craned her head up. Yes, indeed, she was laying on the very hard, beautifully sculpted chest of her ex-fiancée while he slept peacefully under her blanket burrito self like an untroubled, god-like angel baby.

Wow, sleep deprivation was _not_ good for her.

Felicity could see Oliver was untroubled despite the storm still raging outside. His face was free of harsh lines, his breathing was even, and his arms were loose but heavy around her.

His arms. Around her.

It was wrong. Felicity knew it was. Lyla had _just_ scolded her earlier in the week at brunch for “jerking Oliver around.” Sleeping in his arms, blanket burrito or not, definitely crossed the lines she’d been trying to draw in the sand between them.

But… it was _nice_. His arms were strength and warmth and safety. Felicity had been reeling all summer, dealing with the shock of what she’d done – what she’d been _forced to do_. She’d been jumping between helping Oliver at city hall, helping Curtis with his inventions, and trying to get Palmer Tech back so she could do some actual good with it. She’d purposefully not taken the time to breathe.

Now, laying in Oliver’s arms on the couch in a storm, taking a moment, it wasn’t nearly as suffocating as she thought. There was no crushing guilt or unrelenting anxiety. There was just her and Oliver breathing, being, together.

It felt amazing. It was probably the best she’d felt all summer.

So, instead of getting up and going to her big, empty bed where the lightning would imprint horrific images of a decimated Havenrock on her closed eyelids and the thunder would boom like dropped bombs, she settled back into Oliver’s arms and closed her eyes.

Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Tense enough for you?
> 
> I want to state that I am _not_ trying to excuse Oliver's behavior regarding the Baby Mama Drama. He shouldn't have lied to Felicity about it. Point blank. It was a huge mistake that cost him the love of his life. This chapter is me trying to _understand_ his motivations. If Felicity can't get to that point, she can't forgive him. And we don't want that, do we? Also, yes Oliver has come _so_ far in healing from his emotional trauma, but no recovery is perfect.
> 
> Drop me a comment and a kudo then head over to my Tumblr (same name) to chat with me! I'm almost at 400 followers over there and I'm _so_ excited!!!
> 
> You're all the bomb diggity. See ya next chapter!


	8. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity has assured Thea that she's over Oliver, so the younger woman introduces her to a nice, new detective taking over for Lance at the SCPD. She isn't sure how to react, but later conversations in the lair help her make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, guys! This story has a happy Olicity ending! I'm just introducing the detective to kind of push Felicity into making a decision.
> 
> I really like this chapter! Let me know what you think.

“How are you so good at this?” Thea hissed, still attempting to contort her body into a proper back bend while Felicity had already achieved the advanced kapotasana pose.

Felicity would’ve shrugged if she wasn’t bent like a pretzel, so she just turned her head to the side and flashed a smile at the younger woman, unable not to feel a _little_ satisfaction that there was one physical activity in the world she was better at than a vigilante… or, ex-vigilante. They really didn’t talk much about their night jobs when they hung out. Thea was still trying to figure everything out away from Team Arrow.

“I was a certified yoga instructor in college,” Felicity replied, keeping her voice low as not to disturb the other participants. “I had a full ride plus a stipend, but I needed extra cash for the computers I built. I got paid well, great tips, and got to stay healthy when most of my classmates gained the freshman fifteen, sophomore twenty, and so on.”

Thea finally achieved her backbend – it was perfect, once she got the hang of it – and looked over at Felicity with her eyebrows raised. “Does Ollie know about this?” she asked.

“Well, yeah. While we were together, Oliver reaped several benefits from my flexibility and… I mean, in that… Oh, frack,” Felicity murmured, her cheeks flaming red from more than just a good workout. “I can’t believe I just talked about sex with Oliver with his little sister. Stopping now.”

“How about forever?” Thea grit out, her muscles beginning to strain from holding the position for so long. Vigilantism was all about moving quickly and efficiently. None of Thea’s training really prepared her for something like yoga.

Felicity and Thea had been hanging out as much as they could over the summer, making sure to spend time away from the lair where vigilante business was strictly off the table. Thea was still dealing with the effects of the bloodlust, being brainwashed by her sperm donor, and Laurel’s death. So, when Thea suggested they go to a class at Star City Sports Club, Felicity grit her teeth and said yes.

Felicity had fallen off the exercise wagon a lot since college. She still did yoga – occasionally – but only in the comfort ad privacy of her own home. Oliver had been witness to many yoga sessions and Felicity could still remember with vivid detail how they usually ended. On the floor, for the most part, definitely _not_ in savasana.

But it wasn’t just working out that had her balking. Star City Sports Club was _the_ premier gym in the city. Anyone who was anyone had a membership, for a tidy $4,300 a year fee. It was everything Felicity was so happy she managed to avoid by dating Oliver post-fortune: pretentious, gaudy, and fake.

Oh, the fitness wasn’t fake. Some people actually joined for health purposes and the instructors were top notch.

But most people didn’t go for fitness.

Thea only joined because she needed to stay in shape while she wasn’t being Speedy. Felicity knew the younger woman didn’t care about money or pedigree, but she’d always been more comfortable with those things than Oliver. Thea was more than happy to live without them, but Oliver _chafed_ at the expectations that came with it. Once Thea settled a bit after Oliver came home and she realized she didn’t have to act out or do drugs to get attention, she was much more comfortable using her money.

And the people in the class were talking about her. Felicity could tell. As soon as she walked in with the younger Queen, she’d seen the glances averted, heard the murmurs, saw the whispering mouths disappear behind bejeweled hands.

Felicity and Oliver were broken up, but intrigue still followed. Their relationship was public after they got back to Star City and their engagement was _very_ public. Television public.

But their breakup? Radio silence. They’d never talked about it, but neither of them ever said anything to the press about what happened. It didn’t feel right.

So, in the absence of fact, the press speculated fiction.

There were a thousand variations: Oliver broke it off after he realized she was just Vegas trash, he was still mourning love-of-his-life Laurel, he was already married, he was gay, she was gay, she’d cheated on him, or he’d gone back to Ollie Queen and his eye wandered a bit too far. There were a million more theories for her dumping him than him dumping her, though, which Felicity did _not_ want to think about.

She knew he’d hardly even looked at another woman since she left the engagement ring on their kitchen table and walked out. She read the stories women sold the tabloids about how they approached him and were soundly denied. By some miracle, the press didn’t know they were living together.

Felicity shook herself out of those thoughts and returned to the moment, transitioning into the advanced versions of poses Thea continued to struggle with, until they ended in savasana and Felicity let her mind simultaneously float and be present.

Once class was over, they packed up in a corner away from the gossiping housewives and Thea continued to vocalize how impressed she was with Felicity’s yoga skills.

Until she turned to another topic.

“So, how’s Ollie?” she asked, a glint of something far too much like mischief and meddling in her green eyes.

Felicity shrugged. “He’s fine. Busy, but who isn’t these days?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Mhmm. Did you ever text that guy whose number I gave you last week?” she asked innocently, rolling up her mat.

Felicity bit her lip, trying to think of a plausible answer. She and Thea had been talking, like normal, when the subject turned to men. Thea seemed to think that Felicity and Oliver were one round of eye-sex away from making up, to which Felicity protested that they were not only over, but Felicity wasn’t even interested in Oliver like that anymore. In fact, she was thinking about trying to find someone new.

To which Thea had said ‘perfect!’ and given her the number of a guy she thought would be great for Felicity. _“He’s a real straight-shooter, Lissy. No-nonsense. Awesome guy.”_

And… she never used the number. There was no real reason. It was just, as soon as she opened the text and saw his number sitting there, something inside her shifted uncomfortably and she found something pressing to do instead.

“Uh, no,” she said, scrambling for an excuse under Thea’s suddenly intense scrutiny. “I’ve just been so busy. Curtis and I are really making breakthroughs with this chip and technically its proprietary but all the new tech is mine if anyone asks so Palmer Tech can’t get their money-grubbing hands on them, and then there’s my night job and in my free time I like to catch up on Netflix and sleep – ”

“But you’re _definitely_ over Ollie?” Thea interrupted, raising one perfectly sculpted brow.

Felicity nodded emphatically, suddenly really interested in making sure her mat was rolled properly. “Totally. I mean, he’s been really awesome lately and we’re making great progress back toward trust and friendship and stuff, but we’re over. Definitely.”

Thea grinned, suddenly looked much too wicked. “Good. Then you won’t mind if I do this,” she said, suddenly turning and calling out, “Detective Malone!”

The yoga instructor, who Felicity just noticed was surrounded by suddenly sour-looking women, grinned and strode over to them. He was tall and handsome, with light brown, almost red hair, blue eyes, and an open, easy smile. “Thea, I told you to call me Jesse, please,” he said, sounding at ease.

Felicity was frozen. Malone. This was the man whose number Thea gave her. What was she plotting?

Thea looked far too innocent for Felicity’s taste, but just turned the charm up higher and grinned. “It’s ingrained. You’ll always be ‘detective’ to me. Might as well get used to it now,” she shrugged, then turned to Felicity who was trying to very subtly communicate with Thea via hand gestures to shut up and stop. Felicity froze as soon as the detective looked at her. “This is my friend Felicity. Remember, I told you about her?”

“Oh yeah!” the man said, nodding and holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Felicity. Please call me Jesse. Like normal people do.” The last comment was obviously directed at Thea, but Felicity smiled anyway – trying not to show how uncomfortable she was – and shook his hand.

His grip was firm and cool despite having just taught an hour-long yoga class. It felt nice.

“Good to meet you, too, Jesse. I’m Felicity. Obviously. I mean, Thea just told you that and even if she hadn’t, she’s obviously talked about me before and – ”

“Woah, there,” he said with that easy smile still on his face, dropping his hand before placing both of them on his hips. “It’s all good.”

“How does a detective have time to teach yoga?” Felicity found herself asking, a little embarrassed at her outburst but still curious. It was a valid question, there was no need for her cheeks to be as pink as they were.

“I have days off, too. Also, they’re still dealing with a lot of stuff about the Damien Darhk trial so I’m not full-time yet,” he explained.

Stuff. Damien Darhk trial. Quentin. This guy was Lance’s replacement since he got fired after admitting to work for Darhk. This wasn’t weird or uncomfortable at all.

Before she could think of anything to say, Jesse continued, “I’m sorry to rush off, but I have a meeting at the precinct in thirty minutes. It really was great to meet you, Felicity. I’ll have Thea give you my number and maybe we can hang out sometime. I’m still new to Star City and it’d be nice to have someone show me around.”

Oh, he was flirting. Flirting pretty hard from what she could tell. Thea was right, he really was straightforward. But… it was nice. Knowing immediately that he was into her and wanted to pursue something – even if it was just coffee and a tour of the city.

“U-uh, yeah. Sounds nice,” she said, waving absently as he strode away before rounding on Thea.

“What was that?” she hissed, gathering her things quickly so she could leave.

Thea shrugged, already packed up. “Well, you’re apparently over my brother and ready to move on. This guy is the exact opposite of Ollie – honest, open, and dependable – so I thought you might like him,” she said, but there was something sharp in her tone. Like if Felicity got any closer, she might come away bloody.

Felicity shook her head. “There’s just so much going on this summer. There’s the _green thing_ , Palmer Tech, Lyla and Digg and… other stuff,” she’d been about to say _and you_ , “so I don’t know if I really have time for a boyfriend or anything.

Thea let the conversation slide and hugged Felicity as they parted ways outside the sports club. Thea was going back to her apartment and Felicity had to meet Oliver in the lair. It was a Saturday, which meant their night jobs saw more action than usual. Though it was still afternoon, they had some leads to chase down and prep work to do.

A vigilante’s job was never done.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Felicity, the… What are you wearing?”

Felicity reflexively glanced down at herself as she entered the lair as if he clothes had suddenly changed in the car ride from the gym to Oliver’s old campaign office. “I just left the gym with Thea. I didn’t have time to change,” she said, looking back up as she made her way to her computers. The bright pink athletic tank top, cropped leggings and neon blue tennis shoes weren’t her usual lair attire, but it would do for one night.

Oliver didn’t respond. When Felicity glanced up at him, he was blinking rapidly.

There were a few cons to working so closely with someone she used to know intimately. Felicity had always known Oliver’s reactions well, but after they got together her knowledge grew. Most of the time, that was a good thing. It meant Felicity knew when Oliver needed company, needed to be alone, or needed checking up on. Sometimes, it could be bad. Like at the moment, because Felicity knew that he would blink rapidly – while staring at her – when she’d done something unexpectedly arousing.

And unlike their summer away and ensuing months in Star City pre-breakup, Felicity couldn’t just smirk and climb him like a tree.

Every day she found more and more cons to the fact that they were broken up…

“Oh, okay,” he finally managed, glancing away as if he was trying to find something to distract him. “That’s good. I should make plans with Thea again soon. We haven’t hung out in a while,” he said.

Another distraction tactic. Mentioning his sister.

“Yeah, yeah,” Felicity said, her mind racing as she tried to sort out her thoughts. Normally, tuning out all these little idiosyncrasies and putting them aside for the sake of their professional and platonic relationship was easy. Lately, though, it had been increasingly difficult.

 _But you’re_ definitely _over Ollie?_

Thea’s words rang back at her, taunting. It was easy to _say_ she was over Oliver, but when faced with him in the lair, where they worked together and trusted each other every night before going home together to coexist in the same place it was a whole ‘nother ballgame.

Thankfully, Oliver asked her about the drug ring they busting tonight and managed to distract her from thoughts of _them_. It was a small-time ring, probably just some kids that got tangled up with a cooker freshly dropped out of college. But the heroin was real and had already led to several hospitalizations and deaths. It was almost nice to handle something like drugs after everything that was Damien Darhk.

When night fell and Oliver was prepping to go out, Felicity finally slowed down long enough to realize she was freezing. During the day it wasn’t so bad in the lair, but once the sun went down the chill set in.

“Your sweatshirt is hanging over the shower curtain rod. I washed it while you were out today,” Oliver said as if he could read her mind. After they’d been together for so long, it was almost like he could.

 _Unhelpful thoughts are unhelpful_ , Felicity scolded herself as she got up and made her way across the lair. “Thanks. I’ve been meaning to wash it but things have been so hectic,” she said, feeling a tiny bit guilty that Oliver had done her laundry.

He just shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. “It’s nothing. Honestly, it was starting to smell so I was doing myself a favor,” he teased.

Felicity stopped in the middle of the room and gaped. It was still so strange to see her big, broody vigilante tease and make jokes like they were back in Ivy Town. He smirked at her – a true, playful expression without a hint of playboy Ollie – and Felicity might have swooned if she hadn’t been so surprised because she could actually see his dimple peeking out from under his scruff.

Felicity would’ve said something snarky back, but the dimple was so rare she decided to let it be.

“Rude!” she exclaimed as she turned back around and made her way to the bathroom. As promised, her ratty old MIT sweatshirt was hanging over the shower. She threw it on and made her way back to her command center.

“Okay, everything looks set from my end. How about you?” she asked, looking up at Oliver.

It was just then that she noticed the strange expression on his face. He was frozen on the raised platform near her computers, staring at her desk with a mix of sadness, shock, and a tiny bit of anger. Felicity glanced around but all she could see was her phone lying innocently to the side, its screen dark.

“Oliver?” she asked in concern, turning her chair to fully face him.

That seemed to snap him out of his funk and he made his way down the stairs abruptly, zipping up his jacket and running his hands over his suit to make sure he had everything. “I’m all set,” he said, still facing away from her as he strapped his quiver into place and picked up his bow. His tone was abrupt and slightly strangled, like he was trying not to say something else.

Felicity worried for a moment – sending emotional vigilantes into the field was never a good idea – but she couldn’t get a good read on him. Since she could still read him pretty well, she took that to mean he wasn’t sure _what_ exactly he was feeling and probably needed the solitude of Star City (and the catharsis of beating up some thugs) to figure it out.

“O…kay,” Felicity reluctantly agreed, putting her comm into place and turning it on. “Alright, let’s go tie up some drug dealers. Gosh, that sounded a little kinky, didn’t it? Frack… Your mind probably didn’t even _go_ there. Why does my mouth hate me?”

She heard a low chuckle over her comm and saw Oliver shoulders shaking just a little before he set off into the night.

 

* * *

 

“You know, if you ever need a night off for…anything, all you have to do is ask. I won’t say no,” Oliver’s voice came quietly over the comms, bringing Felicity from her reverie of setting up conveniently placed evidence files against the makers and distributors of the heroin ring they’d just taken down.

“Uh… Okay. That’s sweet. But you know, neither of us really has a life at the moment. I’m perfectly happy spending my nights with you,” she said, pausing to bite her lip and sigh as her words actually processed in her mind. “Doing vigilante stuff. Obviously. No other… _stuff_.”

Wow, that correction oh so shockingly did _not_ help.

Oliver huffed like he wanted to laugh but wasn’t quite in the mood. “Just…if you ever need time or…whatever, for…other stuff. I won’t mind,” he said, uncharacteristically stammering over his words. It reminded Felicity of when he asked her out on their first date, but less…excited wasn’t the right word. His tone was much more somber, like he was struggling because he truly didn’t want to say the words instead of being nervous.

Felicity just shrugged. “I guess I’ll let you know if that ever happens?” Felicity said, hating that it sounded more like a question. She and Oliver were usually on the same page, but she wasn’t sure they were even reading the same book at the moment.

Oliver sighed. “Okay. I’m just gonna double check these guys and then leave them for the SCPD,” he said, and then the comms were silent again.

Just then, her phone chimed with its specialized text tone for Thea.

Felicity grinned and checked her phone, surprised to see two text notifications instead of the one she was expecting. She read the one from Thea first.

_Just wanted to let you know I gave Detective Hottie your number since you haven’t text him yet. Hope you don’t mind!_

Felicity blinked several times at the text. She’d completely forgotten about Jesse Malone. Her brain was so wrapped up in Oliver and her earlier conversation with Thea that she’d _completely_ erased the detective and his flirtations from her mind.

With a rising sense of dreadful knowing, she checked the other text. It was from an unknown number, but she already knew who it was from the preview.

_Hey, its Jesse from the gym. I was wondering if you want to go get coffee sometime later this week? Thea gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind._

It was time stamped from just before Oliver left the lair. Her genius-level intellect filled in the blanks.

Oliver had seen the text come through while she was getting her sweatshirt. There was no way he snooped intentionally, but he’d been standing near her computers anyway so she could show him something. He must’ve instinctively looked at the text when he heard it come through and seen the preview displayed on her lock screen. It explained his suddenly abrupt attitude and their weird conversation over the comms.

Felicity put her phone down and sat back in her chair, spinning around slowly while she thought.

She’d forgotten about Jesse so easily. He was handsome, intelligent, kind and obviously interested in her, yet she just dropped him as soon as she got down to the lair and started thinking about Oliver. Was she really as over her ex as she insisted?

By the time Oliver got back to the lair, his steps heavy as he exited the elevator, she’d come to a decision.

“Oh, hey,” Oliver said, making Felicity’s heart clench when he tried to visibly trying to perk up when she stood and caught his attention. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Fair. Felicity usually went home after the bad guys were trussed up and got either hot tea ready or a movie to watch, depending on whether or not Oliver was too keyed up to sleep.

It was just another example of how _not_ broken up they were. Lyla’s words at brunch came rushing back and Felicity was almost embarrassed it had taken her so long to come to this conclusion.

Instead of responding, Felicity walked down the stairs with purposeful strides and right up to Oliver, stopping just a few inches away from him. He stared down at her with wide, curious blue eyes, his mask already hanging loose around his neck and hood down.

Felicity crossed her arms and took a deep breath, her expression serious. “I’m not dating anyone else,” she declared, watching Oliver stiffen and his mind start to work behind his eyes. “I don’t _want_ to date anyone else.”

Felicity could see Oliver immediately go on guard, both wary but hopeful. “I’m not saying… _that_ yet,” she clarified, not wanting to get his hopes up too high but Oliver didn’t lose that almost giddy expression. “I’m not there yet. But, I _have_ decided I’m not going to date anyone else. What’s the point? You still have my heart. I know I broke up with you and everything but…this summer, we’ve basically been together again without the sex. Not that I’m saying we should… Three, two, one.”

Felicity took another deep breath and got back on subject. “I’m not saying I’m ready to try again. Yet. But I am saying that I understand your actions concerning Samantha and William. I don’t agree with them, but I understand them. You were in an impossible position. And, if you’re willing to wait for me, I might be ready for _us_ again. Someday.”

Felicity’s gut twisted and she felt like a massive hypocrite. She was the one who insisted that Oliver stop dangling maybes and here she was, asking him to wait for her because she _might_ be ready _someday_. It wasn’t a true ‘maybe,’ but it was just the same concept with different window dressing.

Before she could wilt and lose her confidence – which she knew wouldn’t have taken long in these circumstances – Oliver took her hand, unwinding them from where they were crossed, and brought them to his mouth. Soft lips surrounded by scratchy scruff pressed an achingly tender kiss to her knuckles, his blue eyes never leaving hers as he said, “I’ll wait however long it takes. You’re worth it, Felicity.”

They stayed suspended in that moment, surrounded by tender warmth and fragile hope, before Oliver put her hands down and gently led her to the elevator.

“Go back to the loft and pick a movie. I’ll be back soon,” he said, handing over her purse he’d grabbed from her work station before pressing the button that would take her up.

Felicity grinned, just staring at him as he stared back. “See you at home,” she said.

His answering smile was just as bright as he agreed, “See you at home.”

The elevator door closed on the image of him, surrounded by light, smiling like a man who’d just seen the sun after months of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, concerns? Leave them below! And check me out on Tumblr (same name as here) to chat!
> 
> Next chapter is the last one, guys. I already know how it's gonna end! I _could_ be persuaded to write a few more, especially once S5 airs, but lets just get this all settled and done before we start talking about all that.


	9. Three Oh One (Round Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is having the worst day ever. Thankfully, Oliver knows just how to make her feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The last chapter of this fic. (Though I _could_ be persuaded to write another if you guys want...)
> 
> This is my second completed multi-chapter! I'm so proud of myself! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Felicity had had a bad day.

Not just a bad day. The end all, be all, Eye of Sauron, He Who Must Not Be Named of bad days.

First off, it was raining. From the moment Felicity had woken up, it had been chucking it down with rain accompanied by thunder and lightning. Normally that wasn’t a problem, but Felicity had back-to-back meetings all morning with her lawyers, potential investors for Smoak Industries, and Palmer Tech. Just because they’d fired her as CEO didn’t mean she was off the board of directors. She still owned a considerable amount of stock thanks to Ray.

As she began to develop her own company, she was less and less interested in trying to get Palmer Tech back. Oliver and Thea didn’t want it and Felicity was sick of dealing with people whose values were so opposite her own.

The day full of meetings began when her alarm clock didn’t go off. Oliver had been the one to gently and hesitantly wake her up, saying it was 7:30 and didn’t she say she had a meeting at 8 a.m.?

Obviously, the morning was a complete bust. She’d thrown on the first cohesive outfit she saw, slapped on some mascara and bright lipstick to fool people into thinking she’d spent more time on her makeup, and ran out the door. She wouldn’t have even gotten her precious morning coffee if Oliver hadn’t shoved a to-go cup in her hands on her way out.

On the way, weaving her Mini dangerously through Star City traffic, she’d promptly spilled that coffee all over herself.

Thankfully, her lawyers were understanding and, other than a brief glance, ignored her coffee stained outfit.

After that meeting, she was reeling from all the information her lawyers threw at her, thinking up potential investors for the tentatively-named Smoak Industries, uncaffeinated, frizzy-haired, and overall done. Unfortunately, it was only 10 a.m.

Disregarding every healthy habit Oliver had been trying to instill in her, Felicity went into McDonald’s and got hot cakes, the biggest sausage biscuit they had, and a massive coffee. She glared at anyone who dared acknowledge her coffee-stained clothes as she took a seat in one of the empty booths and ignored the world for a solid twenty minutes while she savored her breakfast and caffeine.

It was the only time she had for herself for the rest of the day. After that, she was going between development meetings with Curtis – which usually ended up with her talking him down from a plan that would probably blow up the lab – to Arrow business. It seemed like every time she managed to relax for half a second, an alert would go off.

News in Star City must’ve been slow, because a few persistent paparazzi also tried to follow her throughout the day and ask her questions about her and Oliver’s breakup. So, whenever she had to run to the lair she also had to dodge crazy people doing any for the next fake news story.

Oliver had called at some point to ask about lunch and she’d managed not to snap at him when she said she was busy and having the worst day of her life, so she wouldn’t be able to meet him today.

Her heart lurched when, about thirty minutes later, catered lunch from her favorite hole-in-the-wall Italian place showed up at Curtis’ apartment. She managed to thoroughly ignore his ribbings and suggestive eyebrows by stuffing her face with bread, pasta, and Caprese salad. Oliver was a modern marvel. He always managed to sneak something healthy (or at least healthy _sounding_ , because it was still mozzarella cheese between those tomatoes) into every meal.

But even that one bright spot wasn’t enough to save the day. As soon as she’d spilled coffee all over herself that morning she’d given the day up for lost and she was right.

That night, Felicity trudged back into the apartment dripping wet. Oliver was there, presumably having come out from the guest room as soon as he heard her key in the lock, and paused at the sight. “What happened?” he asked, his entire countenance showing his concern.

Felicity sighed again, ringing out her soaked ponytail and toeing off her cute – but now water-logged – shoes. “My umbrella broke,” she said, not wanting to go into any more detail.

As if reading her mind, Oliver disappeared for a moment only to come back with two huge, fluffy towels. She smiled a little when she saw they were his extra-large ones he often berated her for stealing. Then again, he used to leave wet ones on her side of the bed so Felicity considered it fair play.

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking drying herself off as much as possible before stepping out of the entry.

“Go upstairs and dry off,” Oliver said, gently herding her up the stairs of the loft.

Felicity was in no mood to argue. She took her sweet time peeling off her soaked clothes, getting warm again, and then putting on her comfiest sweatpants and fluffy robe. She scrubbed all her runny makeup off, blow-dried her hair, and left it down around her shoulders.

She went back downstairs, ready to spend her evening vegging out on the couch and watching Netflix – maybe while helping Oliver go over proposals if she felt nice – and froze when she saw what was waiting.

Candlelight and a glowing fire in the fireplace lit the whole space. The soft scent of her lavender and sandalwood candles filled the air, calming her instantly. Soft music played over the built-in speakers, creating pleasant background noise. And there, in the middle of it all, stood Oliver with a glass of red wine.

“I – I can’t believe you did all this,” she stammered, her mind racing when she realized she’d almost said _I love you_.

He shrugged like it was nothing. He probably honestly thought that, too. Oliver always had a problem recognizing how amazing he was. “It’s the least I could do,” he said, extending the hand holding the wine. “You had a really bad day. You deserve it.”

Felicity floated forward, still hardly believing the man in front of her was real, and took a hearty sip of the red elixir. Her toes curled and she sighed at the taste of this particular vintage. “You shouldn’t have. Neither of us are rich anymore,” she said, but there was absolutely no heat or censure in her voice. A glass of Lafite Rothschild was exactly what she didn’t know she needed at the end of this terrible day.

Oliver tilted his head and smiled that small yet blindingly bright smile that never failed to make Felicity’s knees go a little wobbly. This time was no exception. “I know you’ve still got considerable savings from your time as CEO, and I know you know I still have money from my mother’s side of the family. Even if neither of those things were true, I’d say making you feel better counts as a special occasion,” he said, shrugging a little at the end.

Felicity could hardly stand the perfection of the man in front of her, so she moved to the couch and gestured for him to join her as she sank into the plush leather cushions.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked as he sat down, and that was all the invitation Felicity needed.

She spent the next twenty minutes telling the story of her horrible day in exhaustive detail, from the heat of the coffee spilled on her clothes, to the hunger pangs, the freezing rain, and the obnoxious paparazzi. He tried not to react when she told him about that part, but she could tell he was upset. It was sweet, but Felicity didn’t want to pause her tirade to remind him she could take care of herself. She decided to let it slide this time. He did wrinkle his nose when she told him about the McDonald’s but blessedly didn’t say anything. Oliver learned to pick his battles a long time ago.

By the time she got to the end, Oliver whistled and shook his head. “That _does_ sound terrible,” he agreed, and Felicity was floored that he didn’t sound at all placating. He sounded sincere.

This man, who’d lived through starvation, torture, mobs, watching his own father commit suicide, and so much more, was honestly concerned about _her_ bad day. It wasn’t new. He was the same way when they were together, but now that she’d ended things it surprised her every time he still felt that way.

 _Of course it matters, Felicity_ , he’d told her, tangled together in the sheets after a bad day in Ivy Town when she’d asked why it mattered so much to him. _It’s you. I never want you to have a bad day._

Remembering it now melted her heart almost to the same degree it had when she heard it the first time. It was like Oliver always knew the right thing to say and he wasn’t even _trying_.

(Excluding the situation with Samantha. He hadn’t said the right thing, then. But Felicity was focused on moving forward, so she didn’t dwell on that thought for long.)

While lost in her inner monologue, Oliver gently took her ankle and put it in his lap.

She tensed for a moment, despite the familiarity. Heels were killer, after all, and it was basically a written rule that boyfriend/fiancé duty included foot rubs. It just hadn’t been so common lately as Oliver held neither of those titles.

Neither of them said anything, thought Oliver paused for a moment to catch her eye. When she didn’t protest, just continued staring at him, he began to rub her foot.

Things had been like this recently. Ever since her declaration in the Foundry, Oliver’s behavior had changed. Nothing major, just a return of the lingering and reassuring touches, leaning into her when she was working on her computers, using that special _Felicity voice_ more. It was like… like he was wooing her. Oh frack, was he _wooing_ her?

How had she just realized this now? Looking back over the past couple weeks, it made so much sense. He was pushing a few of their unspoken boundaries, starting small, seeing how she reacted, and then adjusting his behavior. It was so subtle she hadn’t even noticed until now.

Some genius she was!

Now that she realized it, though, what was she going to do about it?

Felicity had told Oliver she was working her way to forgiveness. Reconciliation. Understanding. Was she there yet? Had she forgiven him?

At this point, it seemed like she was just holding on to her anger and hurt as a defense mechanism. Her instincts knew what made her feel that way and was telling her to avoid that situation as not to encounter a repeat performance. But sometimes, instincts were stupid. She loved Oliver. Still. In all this time, even the moment she walked out of the loft, she never stopped loving Oliver. How could she? He’d walked into her cubicle and changed her entire life. Oliver and his mission had given her purpose and value in her self-enforced safe bubble. If not for him, she might have never found the courage to break out of her fear and become the woman she was destined to be. He made her brave. Still did.

In the end, wasn’t that all she needed to know? She still loved him. Trying to date anyone else would just end in heartbreak on both sides. Oliver had her heart and always would. What was the point in denying herself anymore? Oliver said he’d never lie to her again. Felicity loved him, unconditionally. They’d never gotten to the ceremony, but Felicity had agreed to marry him – to choose Oliver every day for the rest of her life. Yes, he’d lied about something monumental, but wasn’t that what the _or worse_ part of the wedding vows was for? Felicity just had to take a leap, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Oliver would never let her down again.

She couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” Felicity blurted, looking up from where she’d been gazing into her red wine, her eyes almost as round as Oliver’s. She’d surprised herself, unconsciously using the exact phrasing Oliver had used to ask her on their first date two years ago.

Oliver blinked a few times, obviously surprised, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. I was planning to cook, but we can go somewhere if you want,” he said, returning to his task of making her feet feel like heaven.

Obviously not what she meant. But was it really his fault he’d misunderstood? They went to dinner together all the time. And she’d been pushing him away since February.

“No,” Felicity said, making him pause and look up at her again. This time, there was a tiny, tiny sliver of hesitant hope in his beautiful blue eyes. “I meant dinner. _Dinner_ dinner. I know they’re the same word, but they mean different things in my head.”

Oliver’s smile was slow but no less dazzling for it. “You mean like a date?” he asked, a little bit of teasing underneath the barely-suppressed excitement in his voice. Felicity grinned back, knowing he was using the same words she had before.

Felicity couldn’t stop grinning, putting down her wine and unconsciously leaning toward Oliver. “Sure, I mean, the implication being with dinner that you…”

Oliver was leaning forward too, their faces now mere inches apart with her feet tucked between their bodies. He glanced down at her bare lips then back up to her eyes, barely letting her finish before saying, “Yes. God, yes,” and crashing their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want me to write their second first date? Let me know! Drop me a comment and a kudo, then head over to my Tumblr (same name as here) to see what I'm writing next! I have several fics on deck and I haven't decided which one to write next. Right now I'm planning to update Dr. Merlyn! I'm writing my version of the Undertaking, which involves a lot of me going back and watching that episode.
> 
> Aside from updating Dr. Merlyn, I'm also planning a Bratva AU, a bodyguard AU, and a high school/beach town/mob AU thing... Stories abound.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what did you think? Leave me a comment and a kudo here then head over to my [Tumblr!](https://imusuallyobsessed.tumblr.com/) I love hearing from you guys over there. Feel free to prompt me! Season 4.5 or anything Arrow related. I have another drabble series, too! "A Quiver Full of Code"


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